Bittersweet
by Emmithar
Summary: Robin's return to Sherwood brings hope, but how long can it last? Chaffee, the new master-at-arms controls the populace through fear, and even Sheriff Vaysey finds himself at a loss. In order to help his people, Robin knows Chaffee must go. But that is easier said than done, and Robin soon finds himself allied with old foes.
1. Chapter 1

**Bittersweet**

**By: **Emmithar

**Rating: **T

**Disclaimer: **

Sadly I do not own anything but my own imagination. All recognizable characters are not mine. They belong to BBC and I shall be returning them (hopefully) in one piece when I have finished.

**Summary: **Robin's return to Sherwood brings hope, but how long can it last? Chaffee, the new master-at-arms controls the populace through fear, and even Sheriff Vaysey finds himself at a loss. In order to help his people, Robin knows Chaffee must go. But that is easier said than done, and Robin soon finds himself allied with old foes.

**A/N: **This is the fifth story in the 'Boundaries of Brotherhood' series. Thanks to those of you who are still reading, I am trying to keep my updates a little more consistent.

I do enjoy reading your input, so feel free to leave a quick review and let me know what you think.

Thanks goes to Kegel for her beta and continued support in writing :)

Onto the story.

* * *

******Chapter One**

They had been tracking him for the better part of the day now. Weaving in and out of the trees, taking care not to be seen. The man they followed was alone, riding through the forest on a black steed. They outnumbered him four to one; with such odds they should have already taken him down. Yet he was not like the other men who had traveled through here.

It had been almost six weeks since their return to the forest, and in that time their full health had more or less been restored. Even Will, whose injuries had been far worse than the others, no longer felt any pain. He ran now, moving silently along a hidden path that was parallel to the road. Djaq was not too far behind him.

The first few weeks they had stayed close to camp; venturing out only to hunt. The time spent in the dungeons had done damage to them all, leaving them weak and tired, without any energy. But with some much needed rest and a proper diet, they had regained their lost strength, as well as some of their courage. Some, but not all.

It was almost three weeks before they had traveled to the first village. They had chosen Nettlestone, still too wary to return to Nottingham where they had been held prisoner, and fearful of running into Chaffee at Locksley. There hadn't been much to take; food was scarce for them, but a stash of silver had still been buried from an earlier raid so they had taken that instead. Yet the villagers did not greet them as old friends, rather instead they had been fearful, refusing each and every offer, some even going as far as running away when they approached. They had received the same response at Clun, and after Knighton, they had simply given up. The villagers were simply too afraid of retribution to risk taking anything.

Instead, they had turned their efforts to something they could do, and could do well. To rob unsuspecting travelers. The goods they had taken were being stored for now, at least until a plan could be formed. They would help the people; that decision had already been made. They would continue what Robin had started; it was just a question of how. Until then, they would continue ambushing all those that passed through these woods.

And that, they had done very well. No one had been spared. Some victims gave in easily, while others needed more convincing. Will was certain that would be the case with this one. He came to a stop, kneeling down near a tree as he watched the road. Djaq came up near him, watching from over his shoulder, a hand on his back to steady herself. The traveler rode on, showing no indication that he was aware that he was being followed. Will glanced across the way, could see the others there, waiting for his first move. It would happen soon. They didn't have a choice; if they waited any longer he would be too close to Locksley for comfort.

Yet still he was apprehensive. The man was big, presenting a strong appearance. He would fight back, no doubt, and most likely he would know what he was doing. He looked like a warrior; and strapped to his side were weapons, weapons that only men of war carried. He had been to the crusades. Briefly Will wondered if the man knew Robin.

The thought caused him to grimace. He missed Robin, wondered about the man often, wondering if he had ever found Much. Like the others he still clung onto the hope the man was alive, that they were both still alive, but that hope was fading with each passing day. It had been too long, too much time had passed. Robin was no more than a memory now. And they were doing this for Robin.

Will pulled his sword free, could see Djaq do the same. She had stepped up near him, and lifted the weapon above her head, catching the sunlight on the metal. It was the signal for the others, and a moment later they were all running down to intercept the man.

The horse was on its back feet, a shrill scream coming from the animal from the sudden surprise. The man was yelling as well, trying to hold on. It did no good, and he fell from the saddle, rolling on the ground. Allan was quick in grabbing the reigns, pulling the horse away and trying to calm the creature as the others surrounded the fallen man. It had been too easy.

Will lowered his sword, pointing it at the man as he struggled to his feet. His head was still down, black hair covering his features as he moved. Will shook his head, warning the man to stay down.

"This is an ambush," he said simply. "We're here to take whatever you may have. You can cooperate and we'll let you keep some, or you can make this difficult, in which we will take everything."

Men would fight to keep what was rightfully theirs. To offer an compromise was so much easier. More times than not they would agree, happy to give a portion away if it meant their safety. Others did fight, and always lost in the end. But fights were messy, they drew unwanted attention, and could end dangerously.

"What will your choice be?" Djaq prompted the man to answer. She was behind Will, sword near her side. "Well?"

The man laughed, looking up at them all. He was bracing himself with one hand, the other resting on his side. In the next moment he moved, pulling free his own sword. So a fight it would be. Will took a step back, ready to intercept the blow. But the man did not charge him, dropping back down and kicking out.

Before he knew what had happened, Will found himself flat on the ground, sword kicked from his grasp. Pain shot through his back, branches and rubble digging in his flesh as a heavy boot came down on his chest. The tip of the sword ran across his chest, coming to a rest on his neck, effectively pinning him to the ground.

Near him he the others called out, moving to help him. But they were stopped short, the man above him growling out at them all.

"Anyone comes near, and the skinny one gets it."

Will watched as Allan drew his hands back, letting go of the horse, showing he meant no harm. Djaq was clearly alarmed, but she too had come to a full stop. And then there was John, an angry frown on his face, the staff clenched tightly in his hands.

"You let him go," John spat forcefully.

Will swallowed, trying to be as still as he possibly could. It was difficult to breathe, the boot pressing into his chest, forcing him further against the forest floor. There was no way he would be able to throw him off balance.

He saw the man smile, his mouth move as if he was going to give some sort of retort, but his expression changed from one of triumph, to one of worry as a blade came to rest against his own throat. He turned to see who had come up behind him, Will following his gaze as well.

"I suggest you do as the man says."

He could scarcely hope, believing at first it was merely a dream. Yet there was Robin, holding the sword that was leveled at the man. Behind him Much stood, bow ready and drawn. Not just any bow, but Robin's own, the distinctive curve hard to miss. Why Much held it, instead of Robin, was a curious thing, but one he would have to think about later. If there was to be a later.

The others must have been just as stunned as he was because no one spoke. Robin's voice had been thin and cold, a deadly tone Will had never heard the man use. It frightened him. The very notion was ridiculous; Will knew that he had no reason to fear the man. Yet the cold stare Robin was leveling on the other was something he had not seen before.

"Lay off, or I'll gut him."

"You do, and you'll wish that we'd kill you by the time we finish with you."

The threat was very clear; before Will would have doubted that Robin would ever do such a thing. But the look in Robin's eyes convinced him otherwise. He had once been a man of war; Robin spoke little of those five years, but Will could imagine what may have taken place.

Apparently the stranger was thinking the same. He seemed to hesitate, but showed no indication of giving in. Robin gave him some incentive.

"This will end one of two ways," Robin was speaking slowly now, as if to a child. "With you walking out of here alive, or with us digging a fresh grave. The choice is yours."

The next moment Will felt the pressure on his chest lessen. He let out a breath of relief, scrambling backwards. Djaq moved in to help him to his feet, and he gave her a shaky thanks.

"Wise choice," Robin still held the blade at the man's throat. His gaze never left that of the man's. "Will, you okay?"

"I'm good."

Robin nodded. "John, looks like our friend here could use some assistance in relieving his burden. Would you care to help him?"

There was a smile on John's face as the big man stepped up, staff in hand. In a moment he had the stranger on the ground, staff pinning him much like he had Will only moments before. Allan jumped in quickly seizing the purse that was tied to his belt.

"Will, take the horse."

"You can't do that!" the man exclaimed angrily, trying to kick out as Allan finished untying the purse. John butted him with the staff again, earning a groan.

"I think you'll find that we can and we most certainly will," Robin argued the point monotonously. He had dropped the sword to one side, but Much still held the bow taunt, ready to fire in case something went wrong.

"Besides, I wasn't lying when I said you'd be walking out of here. It's quite a ways, so you best be going before night falls. It's dangerous in the forest at night. Outlaws, you know."

Will heard Allan laugh at the comment, and could feel himself grin a little as well. It had been so long since he had seen the other man, but in mere seconds Robin had assumed the same amount of respect and authority he had once held over the group. Will was grateful for it as well. For the first time, things felt normal.

"You won't get away with this. Chaffee will hear about this. He will! He'll take care of you."

"Good; I look forward to it."

The nonchalant tone in Robin's voice could not be missed. The stranger had scurried to his feet, moved as if he was going to attack, but then reconsidered. He was unarmed, had lost everything but the clothing on his back, and treading thin ice against six outlaws. Instead he spat at Robin's feet, turning quickly and running as if afraid of retaliation. Robin watched the man run until he was out of sight.

"Well, that was exciting. But I think I've had all the excitement I can stand for one day," Much blurted out, lowering the bow. There was smile on his face, but it was strained.

"Who's Chaffee?" Robin ignored the comment.

"He's the new Master-at-arms." Allan provided.

"What?" Robin's brow furrowed. "What happened to Gisborne?"

"It's a long story," Will offered, one hand running against the horse's flank. The creature ate the foliage below, hardly caring he had a new master.

"That's putting it mildly," Allan added in. "There's a lot you need to know."

"Then you best get started."

* * *

The others had eaten that morning, so it was only Robin and Much that ate now. Rather it was Much who ate. Robin's stomach was still tied painfully in knots that had accumulated with his approach back to Nottinghamshire, plagued with distress due to thoughts about Marian now being a Gisborne. Seeing his men had distracted him briefly. But now the knots were turning into fierce tangles as he listened to the story his men were telling him. About Marian's sentencing, about their imprisonment, and about Chaffee.

Halfway through he found his hunger had dissipated, and even Much could not finish his plate despite the man's early complaints of being hungry. The last day or so had been rough on the both of them, and Much had spoken about nothing but food as they approached the forest. But all of that was gone as the grisly tale was finished.

"That is…revolting," Much offered up, unable to find something better to say. Yet Robin could not think of a more appropriate description.

"He's threatened to punish anyone found taking offerings from us," Will finished off meekly. There was something in his tone that indicated he hadn't told him the entire story. It was something he would address later. For now, he was seething.

"I will change that."

"They won't take anything," Allan shrugged his shoulders. "We tried, but they won't even come near us. Run into their houses and block the doors."

"I will take care of it," Robin pressed. How exactly, he wasn't sure. He would learn what he could about this new master-at-arms, and deal with it then.

"Alright, I believe you," Allan held up his hands in meek apology. "So what about you? Where have you been all this time?"

"Devonshire," Robin hoped the one word answer would satisfy them. "Where is Marian?"

Will had briefly touched the topic that she had stayed behind with Gisborne. While he was angry at that, he could not fault her for doing so. It was in her nature, and she would never abandon the man. He should be jealous of that, but Robin was more elated that she had not married as he first had assumed.

"They're staying at the cave, the one we used to use for shelter from the rains," Will responded. "We've been bringing her food and supplies, but we don't get much of a chance to speak with her. I don't think Gisborne knows she's been helping us."

"Hey now, don't go changing the subject," Allan jumped into the conversation. "What exactly have you been doing in Devonshire while we've been playing musical stockades?"

Robin let out a frustrated sigh. He wanted little more than to go find Marian. He missed her so much it hurt. Yet he doubted his men would simply let him leave. Not only that, but Robin figured he owed them some sort of explanation. So he told them, omitting most of what had truly happened to him during his captivity, loosely skimming over the details.

Much had fallen asleep halfway through, light snores coating the story as it was revealed. Robin was grateful, knowing the man would most likely interject his own opinions at the most inconvenient of times. It also gave him the opportunity to avoid bringing up Eleri. That, he knew, was still a fresh wound for the man.

Much had not spoken of her since they had left. Yet his moods were not consistent; he would be happy, and suddenly grow quiet, become detached. It was those times Robin knew he was thinking of her, and he often wondered if he thought the same things of her as he did of Marian.

"So they were here, looking for slaves?" Djaq wondered, "And took him?"

Robin nodded, glancing to where the man slept. "I think they did not want to go back empty handed."

Out of all people, Djaq would understand the best. She too had been taken prisoner, had been sold as a slave. Had also been destined to work in mines. It was how they had first met; Robin had granted her freedom, and she had chosen to stay.

"You're lucky you even found him," Will nodded towards him. "How did you manage?"

"It wasn't easy," Robin confessed, but he never regretted his decision in going. At first he almost had not, convinced the man had abandoned them all. The thought always lingered on his mind, on how close he had come to subject the man to such a life for the rest of his days.

"We all thought you were dead," Djaq was watching him. Robin grimaced, meeting her gaze.

"I did not intend to be away for so long. Had I known..." he shook his head. They had not been able to tell him how long they had been kept in the dungeons, having lost track of the time. He could only imagine what they must have gone through, yet maybe it was the smallest of blessing for they were still alive now. Had he returned here, and found them all gone...he shuddered at the thought.

"I'm going to see Marian," he told them, trying to chase the thought away.

"I will come with you,' Will offered, already on his feet.

Robin almost shook his head, wanting to go see her alone, but hesitated. He figured that Will would probably follow regardless of what he said. He would rather keep the man close than constantly look over his shoulder. So he nodded, moving to his feet. Marian was waiting, and he was most eager to see her.

* * *

Guy was already gone by the time she woke. It wasn't much of a surprise; they had argued again the night before. No doubt he had gone off to find food, despite the fact they had plenty here. He knew it came from the outlaws and refused to eat any of it. Marian was not so particular, and bit into the apple as if to prove her point.

She could not stay here much longer, she knew. It had started the first night they had come here. Guy had wanted to go on, to leave Nottinghamshire altogether. Marian knew there was little other choice. There was no place for either of them in Nottingham now; Gisborne had lost favor with the sheriff, and she had been branded a traitor, accused of helping the outlaws. How much the sheriff knew exactly was beyond her knowledge.

As to Guy, she had told him some, but not all. She had admitted to helping the outlaws, but had not elaborated. She had said nothing about the Nightwatchman. That was her own secret, a secret she was hoping to return to when the time was right. There might be no place for Marian, but as far as the Nightwatchman was concerned...

It was difficult to find excuses to stay. Guy had pressed her to leave, to go with him and start a new life. It may have been the smartest option, the safest. But doing so meant to leave everything behind; she still had friends here, such as Sara and Jess. The outlaws as well, and Robin...

She had heard nothing of him. In the few times she had managed to speak with Will he had always shaken his head. There had been no signs, no news. She wished he would have stayed here; he was always leaving. First for the war, and now again to search for Much. It was a hopeless cause; surely he could have known that. Still he had gone and it made her angry. But Marian secretly wondered if she would hate him all the more if he had simply given up on the man. She suspected the answer to that was yes.

Not that it mattered. Robin was not here, and she was running out of time. She could not stay in this cave for ever, could not expect for Will and the others to continually bring her food and supplies. She could not forever lie to Guy of Gisborne.

Already the man was frustrated with her. He had offered to go where ever she wanted, had suggested to return to her father, had demanded that they leave. She countered it by saying this was her home, that she couldn't just leave. Guy had pointed out to her that she had left once, had pressed her to do so again. Still she refused.

It always ended up the same, the pair of them yelling, drowning out the sounds of the forest. Then they would not speak to one another for a time, before quiet apologies were exchanged. They were tired, they were scared, they didn't mean anything of what they said. Then things were civil, for a time, before the arguments started once more. And Marian knew they could not continue to do this for much longer. She would have to make a decision.

She could join the outlaws. They would let her stay, she knew. But that meant she would have to leave him behind. Telling him the truth would anger him, and what he would do she could not say. The man had nothing at the moment, and it would devastate him. That was not something she could do.

Marian supposed she could leave and say nothing. It would be easy enough to slip away while he was out hunting. He would not stop searching for her, she knew. And he would most likely find her easily enough. The outlaws would be the first place he would go simply because he had no one else to turn to. And what would he say when he saw her with them?

The last option was to leave with him. To go find a new place they could call home. What they would do, she was not certain. Guy would want to marry, she knew. He had brought it up once or twice, but she simply explained that marriage was not a priority given all that taken place, and shortly after he had dropped the subject. For that she was grateful.

Before she had been ready to marry him. She was old, far past the age for when women normally wed. She had been mocked for it for such a long time. It never was supposed to be like that. She was supposed to marry Robin, and he had gone away. No man had gone to her for a time, expecting Robin's return. As the years went by, Gisborne had come into the picture, and the man had not cared about her past.

She could marry him. Marian knew there was good inside of him, knew that she could bring that part of him out. Guy was continually played by the sheriff, having thoughts and ideas planted into his mind and she changed those thoughts and ideas more than once. It would do her good to marry him, she decided. Then Robin had returned from war.

She could not deny that she loved him still. Had he stayed within the law, they could have married, could have had a decent life. She would have been honest with him, told him about her Nightwatchman duties. Marian half-suspected he would have joined her too, fighting in secret against the sheriff. But he had turned against the sheriff publicly, had made himself an outlaw. There had been no hope then.

And now...now they were all outlaws. Marrying would bring no benefit, and she felt guilty whenever that thought popped into her head. She should not marry simply because she might gain something, but rather because of love. But did she love Guy? Marian was so confused she could no longer answer any of those questions.

The whistle came, one she heard clearly. It would be passed off as a bird by the untrained ear, but that had been the same signal used by Robin and his men for as long as she could remember. Will had resorted to that to get her attention, not risking being seen with her if Gisborne was around. Why the man was back today puzzled her; he had just dropped off supplies the day before. Maybe he had heard news?

The thought brought her to her feet and she left the cave quickly. Marian brought a hand over to shield her eyes from the sun as she stepped outside. The whistle came again, to her right, and she turned making her way up the hill. Halfway up she stopped as she saw the other man, disbelief creeping into her.

"Robin?"

The man did not answer, simply crossing the gap and pulling her into an embrace. She wrapped her hands around his neck, burying her face against his chest. He held her for a long time, saying nothing, and she too was silent, lost for words. Each breath she drew brought in his lingering scent, one she long had remembered but thought she would never smell again. He was here, Robin was home. She felt herself cry.

Robin kissed her on top of her head before pulling away, hands holding her face. There were tears in his eyes as well. Marian smiled at him.

"I thought I would never see you again."

"I was away longer than expected," he confessed.

"Much?" She was nodding, remembering the reason why he had gone in the first place.

"He's okay, he's here," Robin answered. She let out a breath, glad to hear that answer. She was not sure of what to say had it been something else. For Robin to have lost him...

"Are you okay?" Robin asked her then, watching her closely.

"I am now." And she was. She had not felt this relieved since coming to the forest.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For not being here," he shook his head. She knew he was blaming herself. Marian reached up a hand, placing it against his own which still was on her cheek.

"Don't," she scolded him. "You could not leave Much, and no harm was done. I am fine."

"You were lucky; you were all lucky."

"What happened to Much?" she ignored him, trying to change the conversation.

"He was captured, and sold as a slave," Robin explained briefly. "They were using him to mine coal, but I put an end to that. Tell me what you know about Chaffee."

Marian shook her head. The distraction only lasted briefly. She could ask more about what had happened, but she knew Robin well enough that he would not talk about it until he chose to do so. In some cases, that was never. He hid his secrets well.

"I know nothing more than what your men have told you surely."

She had been in the dungeons by that time. Chaffee was as much a mystery to her as he was to the others. Maybe not as much as the others.

"Have you spoken to Will? He may know more."

"He has not said much," Robin frowned looking over his shoulder. "Why would he know more?"

To this Marian hesitated. "He did not tell you." How long Robin had been back she couldn't be sure. Not long enough to hear all that had happened.

Robin shook his head. "I figured something may have happened. I did not press the topic at the time."

"Talk with him," she urged quietly. It was not her place to explain. Even if it was, she suspected anything she would say would be a partial truth. All she knew was that Will had had an encounter with Chaffee, had been in the man's chambers. There hadn't been a lot of time to talk since their escape.

Robin was already nodding. "Come back with me?"

She knew he would ask, and for a second she almost accepted. Marian had almost come to terms that she wouldn't be seeing him again, and now that he was back, she was afraid to let him go. But if she went with him, what would happen to Guy?

"I cannot leave him," she explained. Marian could see the frustration in his eyes.

"What will you do?"

"I do not know. Guy wants for us to leave, to head to a new shire."

"Don't-"

"You cannot order me, Robin of Locksley," she chided sternly, but couldn't help the smile that was on her face.

"Marian, please," Robin pressed again, his voice softer this time. He was pleading.

"I will be here," she promised. "I will figure something out, and when I do-"

"You will come with me?"

She hesitated, but then nodded. Yes; when she had things figured out, she would go with him.

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks to Kegel for the beta. **

**Review if you are reading :)**

* * *

**Chapter 2**

With Allan's help they moved the boulder to one side. It was near a cliff, concealing a cache they had made shortly after constructing the camp. Though not very wide it ran several feet deep, coming up to his chest when he jumped in. Will grabbed one of the bags there, passing it up to Robin.

The man took it from him, setting it on the ground as he knelt. He untied it quickly, spilling the contents on the ground. It was mixture of shillings, ha'pennies and a few trinkets they had managed to take from unsuspecting travelers.

"We have about five more bags like it," Will told him as Robin sorted through the pile. It was nothing of great value, but it would be worth something.

"What about food?"

Will shook his head. They hadn't much luck there, even filling their own stores. This winter would be hard, he knew. He watched as Robin bit his lip, knew that the man was thinking.

He had gone with Robin to see Marian, but held back so they could have a moment of privacy. Will had not heard any of what was said, but Robin had returned in better spirits than when they had first gone. He had been tempted to ask why, but he knew that was not his place. All he knew was that things were starting to look up.

Shortly after leaving Marian, Robin had turned to business. That was the reason they were here now, for Robin had wanted to see what they had managed to accumulate. It was little more than the leftovers from previous raids; they had already tried taking the stuff of value to the villages.

Will pulled himself out of the hole with Allan's assistance, brushing the mud from his leggings. It had rained again that morning, a cold chilling rain. He wondered when they would start to see snow.

"When was the last time you were at the villages?"

Will frowned, trying to think of what day it was now. Eventually he shrugged, taking his best guess. "Maybe two weeks?"

"Two weeks?" Robin looked alarmed as he glanced at the both of him. Will knew why; even in the hardest of times they tried to make it at least once a week. Yet Robin did not understand. Will tried to explain, but Allan beat him to it.

"What use is it in trying? They won't take anything."

"We can't even approach the villagers," Will added, "and if we leave it out in the open, it's collected by the guards."

They had lost most of what they had gained that way. It was why they had started to store everything instead. They had plans to give it away eventually, it was just the matter of how. Robin was still gazing over the pile of trinkets when he answered.

"We'll go to Locksley; the villagers will get this money, _today_," he emphasized, looking up at the both of them.

He heard Allan snort, no doubt rolling his eyes. Will felt guilt instead, knowing they had let Robin down. He had been counting on them to take care of things in his absence. What had transpired hadn't been their fault, and even now it was not their fault that the villagers refused help, but Robin's disappointment struck at him harder than he would like to admit.

Robin seemed to be reading his thoughts. "I do not blame you," he said, his voice gentler now. "I just want to make sure they have what they need. If this Chaffee is as bad as you say, I know they will need it. And I want to start with Locksley."

"Funny you say that," Allan spoke up. "There's one thing we haven't told you yet, about Locksley..."

"Which is?" Robin turned to him, raising an eyebrow. Allan, who had been so smug a moment before, faltered slightly as he tried to find a way to explain. Will finished it for him.

"Locksley is no longer...Locksley."

"What do you mean?"

"It is now called Chaffee."

Will wasn't sure how Robin would respond, but the man laughing wasn't what he expected.

"Thinks highly of himself, doesn't he?"

Will didn't respond, wasn't sure how to. He wanted to impress the importance on Robin that it was no laughing matter, that Chaffee was to be taken seriously. But how could he do so without telling him all what had happened?

He hadn't yet told Robin about the confrontation that had taken place between him and the other man, on how he had almost been killed. The man might seem feeble, but Chaffee held a surprising amount of hidden strength. Robin was cocky, and Will was afraid of what would happen if Robin misjudged him.

"Get the others," Robin continued, taking no notice of his silence. "I want to leave soon."

* * *

He wasn't going to stay. Allan had made that decision while being held in the dungeons back in Nottingham. Had made a firm resolution that it was time to move on. After all, he had never really been into the whole 'give-everything-away-and-get-nothing-in-return' gig anyway. It worked well for the others, but it wasn't something he was enthused about.

He was born a thief; it was all he knew, and he was good at it. Allan had been left on his own, him and his brother Tom, and there wasn't much other choice they had but to steal. They had been caught a few times, had always managed to find a way out. Allan lived knowing that each day might be his last, relying on no one but himself. Then he had found Robin.

At first it had been great; Allan could continue doing as he had always done, but now there was someone to watch his back. To get him out of trouble when he needed it. True, he never did like the fact they gave everything away, but he could hardly argue. After all, he had a roof over his head, and food in his belly every night no matter how meager it was. That was a large improvement over what he had had before.

But as the price on Robin's head grew, the number of people trying to catch him along with it, the less Allan began to like it all. Before he had been Allan-a-Dale, a simple thief, a bit of a nuisance, but little more. The only way he got into trouble was to be caught doing something that he should not be doing. Now he was one of Robin's men. And he could get in trouble for just being seen.

Two things were very clear to him; he needed to leave the gang, and he needed to leave Nottinghamshire. Even if he distanced himself from the others, declared he was no longer with them, it would do no good. He would still be a target, simply because he had once been associated with the outlaw, or even more so he might be forced to tell what he knew about them all. There was simply too much risk involved. No, he would need to leave, and start a new life somewhere else.

Where he would go he had never been certain, although he was beginning to fancy the idea of York quite well. It was a large town, with plenty of purses ready to be snatched. Mildly he had wondered if the tavern there was any good, if not better than the one back in Nottingham.

He had almost left that first night they had made it back to camp. Then he reasoned he should stay, for a bit. After all, the time in the dungeons had not done him, or any of the others, any good. Allan had lost a lot of weight, and most of his strength. He should wait until he was stronger at the very least.

Then he had stayed because he wanted to make sure the others would be alright. They too had struggled to return to health, and during their absence many things had been neglected. The stores were empty, the camp needed repair, new traps had to be set. Allan had helped them all with that, watching as the days turned into weeks. Soon he decided that he should wait at least until winter was over. Cold weather made a poor traveling companion after all. Then Robin had returned.

Now he was no longer sure of what he wanted to do. To leave the others was one thing; it was fine when he believed that Robin was not coming back. But to leave him now felt like betrayal, and perhaps in a sense it was. Though one could argue Robin had done the same to them when he had set out after Much. Though the man would never listen to that. Just as he was not listening now.

The three of them made their way through the forest, just outside of Locksley. They had taken the bags from the cache, had managed to put some food together and divided the lot into two parts. The first was being taken by him, Will and Robin. The rest was taken by the others and as they had gone towards Clun.

Allan hated seeing the money go. While he never liked seeing it go in the first place, he reasoned it was tolerable simply because it was going to a good cause. But now the people would no longer take the money, and it was often collected by the guards, no doubt going back to the sheriff. Or if the guards were smart, they would pocket the money themselves. Allan knew that was what he would do if it were him.

Curious now he lifted the bag up, sizing it up. How much could he take, he wondered, before anyone noticed something was gone? After all, if he _was _to leave, he needed some sort of compensation. Allan glanced ahead at the others who were pulling further away. Locksley was just over the last hill, and soon he would be without anything. What difference was it if the money ended up in his pockets, or one of the guards?

"Allan, hurry along!"

Robin's voice actually made him jump, Allan pushing aside any thoughts he just held recently. Quickly he caught up with the others, biting his lip as they found themselves on the outskirts of the village.

"You know what to do," Robin told them, and he found himself nodding even though he did not agree. This was not like old times. Nervously he looked towards the manor, wondering if Chaffee happened to be there now, if he was watching.

Allan found himself alone. Robin had gone one direction, Will the others, leaving him there. Allan swallowed, pulling his hood up to conceal his face before setting out as well. It wasn't going to work. It hadn't done so before; why should things change just because Robin was back?

* * *

They had divided the bounty into smaller portions, tying them securely in pouches and leaving them around the village. Normally the people of Locksley had no trouble in finding the small treasures that were left at their door, or sitting atop of the fence lines. In fact, they had gotten used to looking out for them on certain days, and it did not take long for the pouches to disappear.

That was not the case here. Robin had been hiding in the shadows now for well close to half an hour, and not a single one had found a taker yet. Several villagers walked on by, perhaps not noticing they were there. Others would glance, but not even pause as they went about their work. And as each one passed, Robin could feel his frustration growing.

Then one did stop, and Robin felt himself smile. The man stared at the pouch for what seemed like the longest time, then he glanced around to see if anyone was watching. He took a tentative step towards the satchel that was tied to the fence, reaching out with a hand.

The man jumped as a cow bellowed near him and quickly he scurried off in the other direction, not even looking back. The reaction perplexed Robin. The fear these people were exhibiting was beyond rational reason. Then his confusion melted into frustration as a guard came around the corner. The satchel was spotted easily, the man gripping it and cutting it free from the post. It was gone just like that.

"I told you it wouldn't work," Allan reminded him. Robin was frowning, even as Will hushed the man.

"What? It's not like we haven't tried; now what do we have to show for it? Nothing."

To this, Robin simply stood. He drew the hood over his head, and stepped out from the shadows in which they had been hiding. He heard both his men call out after him, but it did not detour him. Robin was determined to fix this here and now.

Locksley was his home, had always been, and so he had no qualms in walking out in the open. His confident stride drew no attention from the other villagers, and not one glance was given his way as he crossed a homestead to where another satchel had been waiting for someone to claim it.

Quickly he scooped it off the ground, catching Allan and Will following out the corner of his eye. They were far more hesitant, stumbling as they scurried through the village. Robin frowned, shaking his head, knowing it would not be long before they drew attention to themselves. They were going to get in trouble doing that.

He turned, intending to intercept them, to send them back. He could not blame them for their fear, having heard a little of what they had gone through, but neither could he condone it. Things would get better, they would regain their lost confidence, but that would have to happen another time. He could not afford it here.

Robin hadn't made it far when someone grabbed him from behind. It was unexpected, and he was unable to fight back as he was half-pulled, half-pushed behind a barn. Robin was just trying to keep his balance, reaching for his dagger as he did so. He had not brought his bow with him, knowing he wasn't confident with it yet. The small knife would have to suffice. But as he turned to face his assailant, his apprehension died.

"You should not be here," the man scolded him. "Do you have any idea what the Master would do if he knew you were lurking about?"

"I do not fear him," Robin snorted. He glanced over his shoulder as Will and Allan came tearing around the corner, holding up a hand to indicate he was fine. There was little need though, for Robin knew they both recognized the man he was talking with.

"And what of the rest of us?" Thornton wondered angrily. "Surely you have heard the proclamation made by the sheriff?"

To this Robin bit his lip. He hadn't heard it himself, but his men had told him. He had just chosen to not believe it. The sheriff had tried to do a similar feat once before; punish the innocents in order to get to him. But Robin had seen that through to make sure it would not happen again. Apparently more had happened in his absence than he liked to admit. He would have to visit the sheriff soon, he mused.

"Do not get me wrong, Master Robin," his former servant still addressed him by his previous title. "It is good to see you; I worry for you, as I always have done. But you must realize that you will do no good here. Chaffee keeps close supervision, as do his guards. We are all under watch."

"Tell me about him," Robin wanted to know more. He had not the chance to speak with Will yet, but who would know better than the very man who lived in the same house?

"He is a quiet man," Thornton shook his head. "Self-involved one might say. I do not know much; I am just a servant. He spends most of his time at the manor, oversees the taxes, and punishes those that fail to meet them. No one is spared, woman or child," the man's voice fell a notch then. "Hannah has fallen ill."

"Will she be alright?" Robin could hear the worry in the man's tone, could feel it in his chest as well. Hannah had been another member of his household, a bright lovely girl, a hard worker. Yet another reminder that there were those who still suffered from his decisions. There was always guilt he carried for subjecting Thornton and the others to Gisborne. Now it seemed that had gone even more ill with a new master residing at Locksley Manor.

"The Master sent her away," Thornton glanced over to another house, Robin following his gaze. "She is staying with a friend for now, I see her when I can, but she is not well, Master Robin."

"I will see to her," Robin reassured him, but Thornton was shaking his head.

"It would be better if you did not. There is no telling what would happen if anyone caught word you were there. Being in the village is one thing, for we cannot stop you coming in. But being in a house directly? I would not see anyone hurt because of that, and I think you feel the same."

Robin was nodding, understanding. "Tell her for me, then?"

"I will," Thornton agreed. "You should be going, all of you," he glanced back over at his companions.

"I will fix this," Robin promised. "You have my word."

Thornton said nothing, merely checking his surroundings before stepping back out into the open. Robin still held the satchel in his hand, wanting for a moment to follow the other and give it away. Thornton would make sure it found someone in need, but then he thought better of it. There was more he needed to know, something he should have done before even coming this way.

Will and Allan were still watching him as he glanced up, waiting for the next plan. Robin already knew what he had to do.

"Back to camp; we need the others." They were going to Nottingham.

* * *

The Sheriff of Nottingham was not having a good day. Indeed, none of the days in the past weeks had been any good, but today seemed to be worse. It had started with a visit from Jasper, a man appointed by the prince to be a royal pain in Vaysey's side. The man hadn't wasted any time in launching into a lengthy conversation that could be summed up as a prelude to all of Vaysey's failures. The largest and most reoccurring theme was the escape of the outlaws.

It didn't matter when he pointed out that had he gone with his original plan of hanging the outlaws, they would no longer being running wild. Jasper had ridiculed his lack of authority and inability to see things through in his own castle, yet at the same time supported Chaffee in the man's decision to keep the outlaws alive, if only for the means of finding their camp and hidden stores. None of which had happened; yet another failure Jasper liked to point out.

It then had gone onto the lack of taxes; with the outlaws back on the run, the funds had began to disappear. And now the shires were struggling to even pay what was expected of them now. Before when Hood and the outlaws took the taxes, it had been distributed about the people. Now, with the threat of punishment lingering should anyone take offerings from them, the money was simply disappearing. Once or twice they had gotten lucky, had recollected the money that had previously been stolen, but the outlaws had wised up, had stopped trying.

Now, with the money simply gone, the shires were fading. Those able to work were doing so in another shire, bringing home payment on a weekly basis in an effort to keep their families safe. Even so, more and more beggars were lining along the streets, most of which were sporting wounds inflicted by guards at Chaffee's commands. Injuries that left them unable to work. It was infuriating; if Chaffee wanted to punish the peasants for insolence why not simply kill them?

At this rate all of Nottingham would fill with beggars. Theft had gone up, something that was not surprising; Hood, he hated to admit it, had curbed most the populace of that while he had been here. True, the man was a thief himself, but he gave away what he had and so the people of Nottingham had no reason to steal. Now it felt as though it was happening from both ends, the peasants stealing right from the town, and the outlaws taking anything that may cross through the forest.

It was all the more reason to find them. Jasper wasted no time in reminding him this much, dangling the threat of his position over his head. The man needed not to be anymore clear; if things did not improve, then his position of sheriff would be revoked. He was not a fool; Vaysey knew that meant death.

Shortly after Jasper had left, he had been summoned to the Great Hall. He was being summoned in his own castle. He had half a mind to not go, wanting instead to drown his worries in some wine, but how would the prince view that behavior? No doubt Chaffee was writing his every action down, and making up stuff to embellish it all the more. So he went.

Chaffee was not the only one there. It was not a surprise, for the man was always followed by guards anymore. He sat at one end of the table, watching with interest as a man knelt in the middle of the floor, busy with something. Vaysey watched for a moment with a frown, before moving to sit near the other.

"Who is he, and what is he doing?"

"He is a contract," Chaffee replied mildly, "and he is on business."

Vaysey let out a huff, shaking his head. Of course he would get no real answer from the man. So he watched, unable to deny that he was mildly interested in what was going on. The man was young, lanky and underdressed, suggesting he was of no importance. No doubt someone who was trying to scam them both. But then again, Chaffee had stated the man was a contract...but for what?

"There," the man stated then, stepping back to reveal what he had done. In the center of the room there was a strange contraption, one he hadn't seen before. Two thick boards were spread apart, each lined with jagged points, something that almost resembled arrowheads. They were braced by the third, thinner board in the middle.

"What is that?"

"Zat is known as a traquenard," Chaffee's voice was thin and sarcastic as he scoffed, acting as though he was explaining things to a child. It caused him to frown.

"One of the finest hunting traps available in our age," the first man explained further.

"Hunting?" It was Vaysey's turn to scoff at the other. He was neck-deep in trouble concerning politics and his master-at-arms wanted to go hunting?

"Everyone needs a passion of some kind," Chaffee merely shrugged, glancing up as the door opened. The sheriff turned as well, watching as several more guards came into the room, dragging between them another man bound in shackles. He was pleading, begging for them to stop. The sound grated on every nerve; why could they just not shut up?

Chaffee did not seem bothered, rather instead motioned for the guards to bring the man forward. "Zis is the one?"

"Yes, milord," the head guard answered with a nod.

"Good," he was looking over the man who had suddenly grown quiet. "Zey tell me you were found in ze storehouse?"

"I," the man faltered, voice stuttering as he answered. "Please don't take my hand, milord, I need to work, I need to feed my family!"

It was all the sheriff could do to keep from saying anything. Instead he closed his eyes, trying to banish the grisly-haired man from his mind. He was not squeamish when it came to bloodshed or torture. God knew he had taken part of it more than once, and he would do so again when needed. No, rather what bothered him was the thought that crept in his mind that there would yet be one more beggar running through the streets causing problems.

"I won't take a hand," Chaffee reassured the man, something that caused Vaysey to open his eyes. Was his master-at-arms suddenly growing a conscience? He turned to look at the other, hoping that he was not turning into another Gisborne. One was enough, after all, even if he hadn't seen hide nor hair of the man since the outlaws had broken free of their confines. Vaysey wondered from time to time what ever had happened to the man. Ran off with the leper was the most likely cause...

"Thank you, milord, thank you," the man was groveling now, falling to his knees. "It won't happen again, I promise you, it won't!"

"I said I would not take a hand," Chaffee interrupted the weepy tirade. "I did not say I would let you go."

To this, the man fell silent, obviously confused. Vaysey allowed himself the briefest of smiles, wondering now what his master-at-arms was up to. Chaffee paid little heed to him, however, motioning with his hand to the center of the room.

"You see zat zere?"

The man nodded.

"Step in it please."

Quickly the man shook his head, "I'd rather not..."

"You will," Chaffee told him plainly. "You have committed a crime, and you shall pay for it." He then nodded to the guards who stood still flanking the prisoner. "Assist him."

"Harsh, very harsh," Vaysey muttered even as the guards pulled the man to his feet. Still, he was interested in seeing exactly what would happen. The man was crying, begging, fighting against the guards as they pushed him closer. It would be only a few more seconds now, the strange device just a few steps away. The cries turned into a scream, the trigger releasing, the boards swinging upwards with violent force. The sharp points went straight into man's legs, clamping down just above the ankle, drawing a fierce amount of blood.

It had happened quickly, the speed of which surprising the sheriff. The man now lay on the ground, hands trying to claw at the device that now held his leg. He was screaming, crying, making a horrendous racket that caused Vaysey to wince. Why was it that they made so much noise?

Chaffee held up his hand and one of the guards moved suddenly, sword drawn. A moment later, silence filled the hall. Chaffee had crossed his hands, fingers lacing one another as he leaned forward as he addressed the contract from before.

"I do not zink wood is strong enough."

"It has been proven most effective in many cases," the man pointed out, his eyes still on the body of the prisoner that was entangled in the trap.

"Could it be done with metal?"

The other hesitated, and then nodded. "Provided a good smith...and proper material...I don't see why not. It would be expensive..."

"Cost is of no matter," Chaffee waved his hand. "Ze prince will pay for it."

Vaysey rolled his eyes. The prince was pestering him for the lack of money, and here Chaffee was spending it on a hobby.

"And a way to hold it in place?" Chaffee continued, oblivious to the sheriff's reaction. "I do not want my prey to escape."

"With all due respect, milord, if any game gets caught in a trap such as what you propose, they will not be going far, if anywhere at all."

"I wish to be certain; zese woods are full of strange game. Can you bring a couple dozen?"

The sheer amount caused Vaysey to scoff, right before falling into a coughing fit. One was unreasonable, two was ridiculous, but an entire two dozen? What in God's name did the man need that many traps for?

Chaffee shot him a mildly annoyed glance before turning back to the other man. "Well?"

"Two dozen...that would take some time," he breathed.

"Ze sooner you do so, ze larger your pay."

This seemed to perk the man's interest, for he readily agreed, leaving once he had collected his trap from the man's leg. The guards busied themselves with the cleaning, and before long Vaysey was alone with the other. Still, nothing was said, and he wondered if Chaffee had called him here merely to become involved with the man's interest.

"What it God's name do you plan on hunting that you need all of that for?" It had to be something big, something dangerous, he reasoned. Maybe the man would be gored to death by some angry creature. The thought caused him to smile. By all means, let him hunt...

"Outlaws," Chaffee replied instead, leaning back in his chair. "We will be hunting outlaws."

**TBC**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks to kegel for the beta.**

**And many thanks to those who reviewed! It's good to know I do have some readers still. Onto the next chapter!**

* * *

**Chapter Three**

They hadn't gone to Nottingham that night. By the time they had met back up at the camp, most of them had been too tired to go on. Robin was not happy with the decision, she could tell, but she could also see the look in his eyes and tell that he too was worn. When Djaq pointed this much out to him he surprisingly agreed. It had been a long day for all of them, not just physically, but emotionally as they all adjusted to the fact that Robin and Much had come back so suddenly. It was a good feeling, she decided.

So they had bedded down early that night, intending to head off at first light. But as she woke slowly, the warm aroma wafting in the air, she knew that time had already come and gone. The others were still here, she could hear them easily enough, and Djaq smiled as she heard Allan call out.

"Hey Much, did I ever tell you how much I missed you?"

"You just miss the food," Djaq answered for the other as she opened her eyes. Slowly she made her way to her feet, stretching as she did so. There was a bit of laughter between the group, Much giving a bit of a scowl, but it did not last long.

"We did miss you," she told him honestly. And they had, though there hadn't been a lot of chance to really speak about it. Both Robin and Much were a part of their family, a strange and odd family that came together for the one reason that they were trying to stop the sheriff and help the poor. She let the thought linger on her mind as she glanced around the camp, realizing they were not all here.

"Where is Robin?"

She had seen the man leave during the night. Truly she hadn't thought much about it, believing he had gone off to see Marian, but the fact he had not returned yet worried her more than she would like to admit. There was something bothering him, she knew. What exactly was hard to say, for so much was happening. The sheriff, Chaffee, the people, Gisborne and Marian...so many things were wrong at the moment, and she knew Robin would want to fix them all. But that would take time, if it was even possible, that was.

Yet that was not it. Something else was bothering him, something she had seen in the smallest of movements. Whatever it was would have to wait until he was ready; and even then he might never confess. Robin was a private man, he did not bother to address his own issues unless necessary.

"I'm right here," he answered, coming up just then. He was dressed in a light cloak, hood thrown back as he made his way up to the camp where the others sat. "Breakfast?"

"Just in time," Will nodded, already having collected a plate. He made room down on the ground near the fire as the others went to help themselves. Djaq waited, watching as Robin set his bow down, and peeled off the sodden cloak.

"Where were you?" Much frowned at him.

"Probably nipping off with Marian," Allan jested between bites of food. Robin sent a glare towards the man who quieted almost immediately.

"Whatever Robin does is his own business."

"Thank you, Will," Robin smiled and took the plate that Much handed to him.

"And if he wants to go off nipping with Marian in the middle of the night," Will continued, "that is his right."

"Middle of the night?" Allan wondered, "How about all night and half the morning? What happened to 'I want to be headed for Nottingham at first light'?"

"Grow up, the lot of you," Robin shook his head, chewing his food.

"Yup, he's been with Marian," Much concluded, earning a laugh from all of them. Even Djaq was smiling as she took the last bit of food that was left. There was talk about them as they ate; good lighthearted talk, something that was much needed. Most of which was about earlier times, for recent ones held little pleasure. But as they neared the end of the meal the tone became more serious.

"We are going to Nottingham," Robin explained briefly, "I must speak with the sheriff."

"I don't quite like that idea," Allan was the first to object. "I'm just saying, we haven't-"

"Haven't what?" Robin cut him off.

"We haven't been to Nottingham, not since we got out," Will finished.

"So?" Robin was clearly confused, Djaq could hear it in his voice. She could understand the hesitation, could feel it herself as well. She did her best to explain what had happened when no else moved to speak.

"It did not turn out so well the last time we were there."

Robin held her gaze for a long moment, nodding once he realized. "It will not be the same, you have my word."

"Robin, I don't think it is wise," Will spoke up just then. "I mean, they were going to torture me to find out what I knew about you. If they knew you were alive, that you were here...there's no telling what they would do."

"That is precisely why I must speak with him," Robin argued. "As long as the sheriff believes I am dead, he will stop at nothing. I must get some sort of leverage back under control. Only then can we start helping the people."

It was difficult for her to chose a side; not that her opinion mattered, she knew. They would go to Nottingham in the end, for it was Robin's decision and she knew the man would not be swayed. She could agree with him that the people would not accept their help until the previous edict the sheriff had given was revoked, but she too was afraid what would happen if the sheriff managed to catch them once more.

Some of the others were talking now, trying to figure out a way in. With the market suffering as it was, slipping in would no longer be as easy. And while scaling the walls had worked for their escape, they had held the cover of the night, and quite a bit of luck.

"We can always use the privies," Will offered, but Robin was shaking his head.

"That involves climbing; lots of climbing. I need it to be quick."

"We dress as beggars," Allan said simply. "There's got to be plenty of them; there were less people in the villages each time we went. Where do you think they'll go? They'll go to Nottingham, hoping for a handout."

"Or a way to make easy money," Will added. Djaq too was nodding. It would work, she figured. Once they were in Nottingham, they would need a way into the castle, but it was a start.

"It is agreed, then," Robin was looking from one to the other, waiting for their approval. It was given, and no sooner had it been done so that Robin was on his feet, collecting his weapons. Djaq took the cue, and moved to gather her things as well. They were going to Nottingham.

* * *

With a grunt he pulled off the last boot, frowning in disgust at the smell as he passed it up to Robin. "You really are going to put that on?"

"What choice do I have?" Robin asked him. "It would be a bit strange to have a guard wandering around with one boot on, don't you think?"

It would look strange he had to admit. Still, the thought repulsed him a little. "Well, I must say that I am glad it is not me who has to wear it."

He said this even as Robin worked it on, grimacing as he squeezed into it. "Couldn't have found someone with a littler bigger feet?"

"I don't even know why we are doing this," Much ignored the last comment.

"I need to get into the castle," Robin explained, rolling his eyes. He picked up the length of rope, tossing it towards Much. "Make sure he can't get loose, and gag him. It won't do us any favors if he's found before we're done."

"I know _why_ we are doing this, I just want to know why _we_ are doing this, all the while the others are hiding in the shadows."

"We're hiding in the shadows," Robin pointed out. Indeed they were, behind a vacant stall a few paces from the castle. Much had lured the guard back here, and Robin had taken him down with one hit. He was now adorned in castle gear, preparing himself before he would go in.

"Yes, but we are doing all the work. They are just...waiting. And hiding."

"They are afraid," Robin's reply was grim.

"Of what?" he scoffed. "So they spent some time in the dungeons, so what?"

"And is that any different than the time you spent in the mines?"

To this he fell silent, knowing that Robin was right in some sense. If he never went into a cave or mine of any sorts again he would be happy. Still, being in a mine was far worse than the dungeons, he reasoned. He would not admit that to Robin however.

"Well, at least they got to go outside every now and then," he stated bitterly. "And it wasn't like they were tortured."

"Neither were you."

Robin's words were sharp, and Much felt guilty. He looked up at Robin who was working the gloves onto his hands.

"But you were."

Robin said nothing to this, his features grim. Much watched as he flexed his fingers. "How is your hand?"

"It's fine," Robin replied quickly, pulling on his belt and securing his sword. He picked up his bow, holding it for a second before passing it off to Much who took it without question. After all, a castle guard with a Saracen bow was too suspicious.

"Wait with the others, I will meet you in an hour."

"Master, do you think-"

"If I am not back by then, return to camp."

"You're not going to give yourself up again, are you?" he shook his head. Robin had done once before.

"Much," Robin shook his head, a smile on his face. "One hour."

* * *

Allan had been right; getting in as beggars had been easy, far too easy. It was sad to see how much had changed since he had left, how many more there were trying to find a way to survive. Yet another thing he was promising to change. He was beginning to make too many promises.

Robin had left the others behind, going into the castle on his own. He would have felt more comfortable had one of them come with, and he knew they would if he asked. But he had not. Robin did not pretend to understand their fear, for he had not been here to witness what had taken place, but now was not the time to try and cure it. That would come later, for now he had to focus on his mission.

It was easy to walk the halls, and no one gave him a second look as he made his way up the stairs. Only once did he pull into the shadows, waiting until a group passed on by. A single man flanked by four guards, someone he did not recognize. Either a special guest of the sheriff's, or perhaps the new master-at-arms, he mused. Robin took one last look at the man before they turned the corner, storing that information in his mind for later. Then he moved on.

He came to the sheriff's quarters, pausing as he listened. The hallway was empty, and Robin eased the door open a fraction, peering inside. He could see the sheriff, the man at his desk, holding his head in his hands, fingers massaging his temples. Robin took the opportunity to slip in, closing the door softly.

"Head hurt?" he wondered, "Or trouble with politics?"

"Hood?!" the man sat up quickly, almost jumping to his feet, but Robin had his sword out, shaking his head.

"Stay where you are, or my men will shoot." It was a lie, but the sheriff did not need to know this. All he had to do was believe it to be true. Vaysey seemed to consider this, pausing where he was, half in and out of the chair. Robin gave him some further incentive.

"Don't think that they won't, you've given them plenty of reason to do so."

"It was not my idea," the sheriff replied quickly.

"Sit."

The sheriff did as he bade, a scowl on his face. "It is a surprise to see you, considering that I made an announcement stating that you were dead."

"Sorry to disappoint you," Robin sheathed his sword, but kept his hand on the hilt. "So my men tell me that you," he indicated to the sheriff with a wave of his hand, "are punishing anyone taking help from us. I thought we discussed this already."

"Have we?" Vaysey mused, hand rubbing his chin. "I don't remember."

"You remember," Robin said coldly. "I told you that I would kill you if you were ever to harm innocents to get to me."

"Ah, two things," the sheriff held up a finger. "First is that I am not harming anyone, I have yet to lay a finger on anyone, truth be told. Secondly, those orders do not come from me."

"You are the sheriff," Robin pointed out, "Who else would it have come from?"

"You would be surprised," the man muttered.

"So it is trouble with politics."

"Why are you even here?" the sheriff ignored the statement, "What is it that you want? Come to kill me?"

"I want you to negate your previous proclamation," Robin said simply.

"Not possible."

"You will, or I will kill you."

"Kill me then," the man mocked, "it will change nothing."

"When you are dead," Robin leaned on the table, bracing himself with his hands, "the people of Nottinghamshire will no longer fear retaliation. Call it off."

The sheriff seemed to muse over this, rubbing his chin thoughtfully before shaking his head. Robin could feel the agitation growing in him. He had no mind to kill the other, but what was he to do? The sheriff already believed him weak, and perhaps this was little more than a test. Robin had been gone for a length of time, enough time that the sheriff had believed him dead, the sole reason why this man had taken the opportunity to swindle the populace with quite a bit of fear. Yet he was back now, and he would not stand for such treatment of others, and he needed for the people to know this.

"You are prepared to die for this?" he tried one last time, pulling free his sword which he hoped would give the other some incentive.

"I cannot call it off," Vaysey stated mildly, seemingly uninterested in what Robin was doing. "It is not my proclamation in the first place."

"That is not what my men tell me."

"I read it, of course," the man admitted. "But that idea belongs to Gisborne's replacement, my new master-at-arms. Surely you know about that."

"Tell me about him," Robin had lowered the sword again, but had not entirely put it away.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" the man mocked him, a grin on his face.

"Tell me."

"Why don't you pay him a visit, hmm?" the sheriff laced his fingers behind his head, watching Robin. "I hear he's residing at Chaffee Manor. I'm sure you know the way; by all means, you can ask him whatever you want when you're there."

It was meant to be a blow, a taunt, one that worked well. Robin grit his teeth, doing his best to ignore it. "I rather like the scenery here. Now tell me what you know."

He turned, they both did, at the sound. The hesitant knocking on the door, the guard on the other side seeking permission to enter. Robin was quick to turn around, about to order the sheriff to send the other away. But the sheriff was quick, had already replied.

"Enter."

Robin let out a curse, lifting his sword to point at man. "This is not over; I will be back, you have my word."

"Shall I have a spot of tea ready then?"

He did not reply, disappearing into the shadows, out the window. A few minutes later he was walking the halls again, letting his guise as a castle guard give him protection as he made his way out. Things had not gone as he had planned, and it angered him all the more. For a brief moment he turned, surveying the castle, wondering how wise it would be to go back in so soon. But he could hear the others, the stern call of his name. His men were waiting; they would have to return another time.

* * *

Robin had led the way back to the camp, at first taking a maddening speed the rest could hardly keep up with. The man had said nothing when they were reunited, his face set hard and ignoring all the questions that were sent his way. Soon after they stopped asking, kept their heads down, and followed in silence. The maddening pace died out after a time, leaving them to wander in small groups as they crossed the terrain. Much and Djaq led the way now, with Allan and John off to one side. Robin had drifted further behind, Will subconsciously matching his stride so that he was near, but not too much so, given the man room to think.

He had gotten to know the man well enough to know that was what he was doing. No doubt the encounter at the castle had not gone as well as Robin had been hoping for, but Will could not care less. He was just glad to see that Robin had gotten out unharmed, and apparently unnoticed. The fear of the man being caught had been on his mind since watching him enter, a fear he couldn't shake, no matter how many times he had told himself that Robin would be fine.

"What do you know about Chaffee?"

The question caught him off guard, so caught up in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed Robin catch up to him. Will turned, meeting Robin's gaze just then. They were several paces behind the others, and they hadn't noticed that two of their companions had stopped.

"I've already told you-" he began, and rightly he had, but Robin cut him off.

"Marian says you know more than the others. At first that statement confused me, because how would you know something the others do not, most certainly when the lot of you were kept together. But then I was thinking, I just remembered something you said this morning."

"What?"

"You said _they_ were going to torture you to find out about me. Two questions; Who are 'they', and what exactly did they hope to find out?"

"The jailer," Will admitted freely. Who else would be in charge of such a deed? "The sheriff was the one who ordered it."

"You certain about that?"

Will thought for a moment, then nodded, for he could remember that day the sheriff had come down with his guards, had pointed at him.

"I assumed they wanted to know what happened to you; about the camp, whatever else they could find. I don't know, they never got that far."

"You escaped?"

Will nodded once again; what was Robin getting at?

"Then you went to help the others."

"Yes-"

"But not right away," Robin pointed out.

"I couldn't, I was-" Will stuttered just then, catching himself in time. "I was busy."

He hadn't told Robin the entire truth. Did he feel guilty about it? He did, and here was his chance to tell the man everything, but he knew already what the man's response would be, and he wasn't looking forward to a lecture.

"Busy doing what, exactly?" Robin pressed, earning a silent curse from him. How did he know exactly what questions to ask the exact moment? "You were finding out what you could about Chaffee," Robin finished off. "That would make the most sense."

Will nodded briefly, "I know he is in contact with the prince."

"As is the sheriff."

"More than the sheriff, I think," he continued, "almost every single document in his room had the prince's seal on it."

"You were in his room?" Robin raised an eyebrow. "You have any idea the kind of danger you put yourself in?"

"Yes," Will replied testily. He knew full well, had almost been killed for it. "But I was out of ideas, and it wasn't like you were around to help."

He regretted the words shortly after saying them. He could see Robin grimace, the man turning away. Will hurried to catch up to him.

"You know that is not what I meant," he continued. "I had no idea what was happening to the others, if they were being tortured because I got away. I don't even know why I went there; but I had to do something."

"I do understand," Robin said quietly. "And you did good; the others are safe because of you."

To this, Will nodded, taking the subtle compliment to heart. It did not last long, new worries working their way into his mind.

"What are we going to do?"

"I don't know," Robin's reply was bitter. He glanced over his shoulder, back the way they came. By now the others had noticed they had stopped, had joined them in a circle. Robin turned to him just then.

"You said there were documents?"

It took a moment for Will to follow what the man was asking, but when he did, he nodded.

"At the castle?"

"Yes."

"We can't be going back," Much argued. "We only just got out."

"Not being funny, but going back won't even help out."

"If I can find those documents, I can get an idea of what we're dealing with. If the prince did send him, there has to be more going on than I first assumed. I'm beginning to think that Gisborne's replacement wasn't made by the sheriff, but rather the prince."

"But why?" Will wondered. What would the prince care about the Sheriff's of Nottingham's Master-at-arms?

"Bigger plans, perhaps?" Robin suggested. "That's why I need to know. We need leverage, remember?"

"Locksley, then," Djaq spoke up for the first time, having simply listened until now. "Did you not hear?"

"Hear what?" Robin was confused, but Will spoke up.

"Chaffee hasn't been at the castle, according to what we've heard. He's preferred to stay at Locksley and do his business from there."

"Yeah, the sheriff even goes there to conduct business with him," Allan put in as well. They had heard that much from the villagers during the earlier weeks they had first attempted to do the drops. If that was the case now he couldn't be certain, but Robin was nodding.

"Locksley then; let's find out what we're dealing with."

* * *

It had been easier to get into Locksley than it had been the castle. But that was nothing strange; Locksley was his home, and he needed no elaborate plan to find a way in. With a boost from Allan, he had swung himself up to the top window, and when making sure all was clear, he slipped inside.

It was dark, candles unlit, but the daylight still served enough for him to see without difficulty. And as he glanced around the room, he grimaced. What exactly had happened here?

Gisborne had not done much to the manor; in fact most of it had been left the same way Robin had kept it before going to war. Either the man shared the same tastes as he, or simply did not care. Robin often suspected the latter part to be true, most certainly when he was able to find a fair amount of his possessions still stored where they were last kept. But this...

He edged around the plush rug that was sprawled on the floor, knowing the mud and dirt he would track over it would leave a large indication that someone had been here. Robin wasn't too concerned about being found out, but at the same time he did not want Thornton or one of the others to be blamed for his deeds.

Robin took in the room slowly, the same room that had been his many years ago. It seemed as though every spare inch was covered, elegant tapestries hanging on the walls, fine silks and plush cushions about the room, all adorned with so many colors it almost made him ill. He closed his eyes momentarily, trying to get his thoughts back in order. He was here for a reason.

Still he frowned as he took in the sight once more. Chaffee certainly had interesting tastes. He saw the desk then, crossing the gap. Robin was quick in lighting some of the candles, providing extra light as he ran his fingers along the parchment he found there. Those that were blank he disregarded quickly, but paused and picked them up, tucking them in his tunic. Parchment was difficult to come by in the forest, and one never knew when it could come in handy.

It was then he saw the seal, Robin picking up the letter to examine it closely. Will had been right; it was the prince's seal. Carefully he unfolded the letter, skimming the words. It was merely talk of business, of the taxes to be collected from Nottinghamshire.

Another letter, dated earlier, addressed the concern of outlaws within the shire. A third alluded to a job well done as taxes had been increased. Another spoke approval of the outlaws' capture, but went on to press the importance of his capture. It was not surprise to Robin; there always had been a price on his head, and it had gone up over the years. But what surprised him here was that letter was demanding proof of his death. Why would the prince be that eager?

He paused, hearing the steps on the stairs just then. Quickly he grabbed a handful of letters, tucking them in his tunic, laying down the ones he had already read. He blew the candles out, crouched down and then jumped, grabbing onto the rafters. With a grunt he swung himself up, over one of the beams just as the door opened.

It had been the same man from the castle. Not overly tall, nor was he broad in stature. The man wandered in, pausing just inside the door, inhaling deeply. His attention was turned to the desk, where the candles sat, still carrying the hint of smoke into the air. The man glanced around the room, eyes following the damp footsteps that had been left behind.

"I know you are here."

The man turned once more, and then looked up, a smile on his face as he met Robin's gaze.

"You must be Hud."

"Hood," Robin corrected him, "and if I am correct, you are Chaffee?"

"Jacques de Chaffee," the man gave a mock bow, holding his hands out. He clasped them together, returning his gaze back up to the rafters. "Now zat we have been properly introduced, you should come down."

Robin shook his head, picking up on the accent quickly. "Je pense que non."

"Ah," Chaffee smiled. "_Parlez vous français_?"

"A bit," Robin confessed. He head learned it during the war, for the king spoke French, but hadn't any need to use it since he had left the Holy Land. It had left him out of practice, though he could probably understand it easier than he could try and speak it.

"A shame, it is a beautiful language, no?"

"Why did the prince send you here?" Robin changed the direction of the conversation.

"Nottingham has been behind on its taxes, as you might know. I've come to see zat it stops. And we were doing so well, until your little friends got away, zat is."

"My little friends have a bit of a grievance with you."

"Oh?" Chaffee seemed surprised. "Do tell?"

"The Sheriff of Nottingham would have never let them live; he would take orders from no one, except maybe the prince. And since I do not see him here, that leaves me to think that you had something to do with it."

"Coming to zank me? I am honored."

"I've come to warn you," Robin let his voice drop, tired of the charade now. "You leave my men alone, and the villagers as well, or I will kill you."

"It would not be wise," Chaffee still held the same grin on his face. "How many deaths would be on your hand, I wonder, if you did?"

"What do you mean?"

"Zis village, all of Nottingham," Chaffee swept his hand across empty air. "Destroyed, if somezing were to happen. Ze prince does not send me wizout protection."

Robin felt his breath catch. It could not be true, could it? Surely the man was making it up, wanting to keep him and the others on their guard. What better way to protect yourself with a falsehood that no one would question simply because they were too worried that it would be true?

"Vous ne me croyez pas?" Chaffee caught his attention, Robin watching as the man strolled over the desk. He rifled through the contents a moment, before turning around. He beckoned to Robin, holding the letter above his head. Tentatively Robin let go of the beam with one hand, reaching down and snatching one corner and bringing it up.

He read over it quickly, his heart sinking as he did so. It was true; the prince had promised Chaffee protection. That was worrisome; not only did it complicate things for him and his men, but what would happen if someone decided Chaffee needed to go? There was no way he could protect both Locksley and Nottingham from being destroyed.

"You see," the man below him continued, "I have won; now do try and make zis easy on all of us. Come down now."

"This is far from over," Robin argued, turning as more footsteps could be heard.

"Ah, zat would be ze guards. You can come down yourself, or zey will drag you down. Zat would not be pleasant, I don't zink."

It would not be. But Robin had no intention of staying. He gripped the beam, letting himself drop. But he did not let go as Chaffee had planned. Instead he held tight, kicking out with both feet. The man had not been suspecting such an act, and Robin caught him square in the chest, knocking him to the floor. Robin dropped, running for the window without so much as a pause. He could hear the man yelling, ordering his guards to follow.

Fresh air greeted him as he moved out the window. A quick drop and he fell to the ground, wincing at the impact, but picking himself up without any hesitation. The others were there in an instant, bows drawn as he ran past them, holding the guards at bay as he ran for the treeline. He turned only once, to make sure the others were following. Within moments they would all be within the safety of Sherwood.

**TBC **

**A/N: I am no expert in the French, so many pardons if it is not correct**


	4. Chapter 4

**Many thanks to kegel for the beta. If you are reading, drop a comment, I love hearing from my readers. **

* * *

**Chapter 4**

He was glad to see Robin get out, but he would have been even more glad to have not seen him go in in the first place. The bow had been held tightly in his hands, the arrow ready to fly should there be any need. Robin had passed by quickly, Much staying with the others to detour any potential followers. They did not need much encouragement, a few arrows and the guards had all backpedaled over one another. That was their cue, and Much turned to follow the others into the forest.

Robin was just inside, that look on his face, the one he always got when he was thinking. He scanned over the group quickly, checking to see that everyone was there before tilting his head indicating they should go. Much fell in step with Robin, shouldering his bow.

"Are you alright?"

The question had come from Will, and Much watched as Robin nodded. "We just talked."

"Talked?" Allan shook his head, "Why? What did he want?"

"He wanted me to surrender," the man mused, raising an eyebrow at him.

"You've got to be joking."

"Needless to say that I declined."

"And he just let you go?" Much wondered how that was possible.

"Of course he didn't," Will scoffed. "Why else do you think Robin was running?"

"Let's just say he will be a little sore in the morning."

"You were in there for a time," Djaq joined the conversation. "What did you find?"

"The prince seems overly eager to catch me; other than that, nothing too unusual."

"Of course the prince wants you," Much shook his head. Wasn't it obvious? "You are an outlaw, you have a price on your head."

"Yes," Robin nodded, coming to a stop as he lifted a hand to his chin. "But it seemed as though he is overly eager to catch me. As is Chaffee..."

"So we avoid him," Allan shrugged. "Not that difficult; he stays in Locksley most of his time, every once in a while goes to Nottingham, but other than that?"

"The problem is that the villagers will not accept our help, and us even trying to offer them support can land them in a heap of trouble, if not sentence them to death."

"But you said the sheriff wouldn't call off the proclamation," Much was watching him now. "So what then?"

"The sheriff can't call it off," Robin explained bitterly. "Chaffee is the one who wrote it; the sheriff merely enacted it. I have a funny feeling that our friend the sheriff has lost some control since I was last here."

"Then we take Chaffee out," Will stated simply. "I know that you don't like the idea of killing, but we have to think of all our options here. As long as he's alive, there's no way we can help the poor."

"Even with him dead that may not change things," Robin warned. "But that is not an option we can take."

"Robin's right," Much added in. He did not like what Will had brought up. They killed, yes, but only when necessary. Now it seemed as though Will wanted to do so simply because it was the easy way out.

"And what do you think you can do to make him change his mind?"

Near him, Robin sighed, turning towards Will. "I do not know, but we must think of something. Chaffee is under protection from the prince. If anything should happen to him, then Locksley and Nottingham will suffer from it. His guards are under orders to destroy both villages."

"Now you really have to be joking," Allan was shaking his head as Robin delivered the news. Much could only agree with him.

"Surely there is some mistake?"

"Of course," Will added in, "he's probably lying; believes that you would kill him unless he made something up."

"I thought of that; until I read the letter myself," he reached into his tunic, pulled free a handful of parchment. Some of it he passed to Djaq, telling her to keep it safe, and the rest he turned over in his hands. He read it quickly to all of them, the group silent until he finished.

"This I do not like," John said even as Robin finished.

"It is revolting," Much could hardly believe what he had heard. "Destroy two villages?"

"It is madness," Robin agreed. "Nottinghamshire would never recover, not to mention the number of innocents that would die."

"So what do we do?" Much wanted to know.

Robin was quiet for a time, then shook his head. "We go back to camp."

"Well I know that, I meant after that."

"I don't know if there is an 'after that', Much. I really don't," Robin said quietly. The man turned, leading the way once more. It was surprising, and he could do little more than follow. That was not the answer he was expecting.

* * *

He wasn't surprised to hear from Chaffee. Vaysey had barely gotten up before the call came. He was enjoying his breakfast when the man entered the hall, pulling off his gloves as he sat. The man waved off the offering at food, but did agree to some wine, the servant scampering off to fulfill the request.

"I had an interesting guest in my house yesterday," he started out the conversation.

"Oh? Who would that be?" Vaysey wondered, although he already knew who it had been. It surprised him, somewhat, that Locksley had taken his advice, but then again he knew he should never be surprised at anything the man did anymore.

"The outlaw, Hud," Chaffee continued, sipping the wine. He set the goblet down, glancing towards him when Vaysey did not respond right away.

"Really?" he did his best to sound earnest, drawing in a breath as he ran his fingers along his chin. "But I thought he was dead?"

"Zat is what you said."

"Actually, I think we both agreed on it," the sheriff said mildly. He had to admit, Hood turning up out of nowhere had worried him. Somehow he had been able to keep his cool, pretend he wasn't really all that alarmed to see the man returned.

It did make him wonder where he could have gone, on what possibly could have been keeping him. It was clearly obvious the outlaw had not been around in recent times, unaware of all that was taking place. Now that he was back, however, Vaysey was interested in seeing where all of this would lead. Robin would not stand for how Chaffee treated the peasants, and while Vaysey was not a bleeding heart, he would be the first to admit he was glad for that. If Locksley somehow got the upper hand on Chaffee... all the better for him.

"You do not seem so surprised," Chaffee wondered, watching him.

"Well, you see, I never really believed he could be dead; he's a hard man to kill, after all."

"He must be caught."

"If it were that simple, it would have been done so long ago."

"He is only one man," Chaffee continued, earning a laugh from him.

"Well, why didn't you say so? I'll get on it right away."

"I knew you would agree-"

"A clue?" The sheriff shook his head. "I have better things to do than chase a man that will never be caught. Hood is a downright nuisance, but a minor one on a grand scale of things. No, we should forget about him."

"We will not," Chaffee cut him off. "If we allow zis to continue, ze peasants will follow soon. Zey will rebel, and we will have no order."

"Hardly; you yourself said they are refusing all help from the outlaws. Why would that change all of a sudden?"

"Zese peasants, zey love him, do zey not?"

"The peasants hero," Vaysey agreed, rolling his eyes. That was another irritating thing, although he was slightly amused by the simple idea that no one wanted his help. How frustrated Hood must be feeling.

"Zen we will hold zem hostage," Chaffee stated mildly. "He will come zen."

"No, no," he was shaking his head. "We have an agreement. I don't hurt peasants, and he doesn't kill me. I sort of really like that agreement."

"But he will not kill me," Chaffee answered.

"No," Vaysey agreed, "but then again you'd be surprised what you can live through." Hood may not kill, but he did not hesitate to wound. He could remember times before where Gisborne had gotten the brunt of Hood's anger, and did not doubt that the man would do the same to Chaffee. "How far does Prince John extend his protection, I wonder? Hmm? Might want to get that letter updated."

That was unlikely, for though the prince could secure the man's life, it was unlikely to cover him in any event of harm. Injury could come in many ways, and two functioning villages would not be destroyed simply because the man had an ill day, it simply would be impractical.

He could see the man consider this, and after a time he nodded.

"But we must find a way to stop him. It will be your assignment."

"Need I remind you that I am the sheriff here?"

"Not anymore zat I remind you ze prince is displeased wiz you."

This left him frowning. Of course, he did not need anymore reminders.

"What about those hunting traps? I thought those are what we were going to use?"

"Zat takes time, and use zem we shall when zey arrive. But we do not give up simply because of zat. Good day, sheriff." Chaffee finished his wine, moving to his feet.

Vaysey let out a sigh, hoping to finish his meal in peace, before turning his focus on a new worry. Exactly how was he supposed to catch a man who could not be caught?

* * *

Using the knife he cut another hole the cloth, holding it open as the man threaded a rope through. Much grabbed the other end, looping it around the post, and tying it off.

"Make sure it's tight," he reminded him, stepping back to survey their work. There was a considerable gap there now, but it could be covered with an extra blanket. That would do it for now, he supposed, but sooner, rather than later the section would need to be replaced. The weather had done a number on it during their absence, and without continual maintenance the fabric had began to wear away. It was only a small portion of the roof, but with winter coming they needed it to be strong.

"It doesn't look like it will hold for long," Much commented, stepping up near him. Will nodded in agreement. That was a problem.

"We'll need to go to Nottingham." _And hope we can at least barter, _he thought to himself. None of the villagers were accepting or giving help, but what if they were to do a business trade? He glanced over to where Robin sat, the man still on his bedroll, the same place he had been since they had first gotten back. That was the day before.

The rest of them had found other things to do; he and Much were making further repairs on the camp, while John and Allan had done some hunting. Djaq herself had taken to the letters Robin had collected from the manor, seeing what, if anything, she could find from them. Robin, however, had done very little.

Twice Robin had left; earlier to go and see Marian, though that had not lasted long. Then once more in the night, for Will had caught him coming back in the early hours of the morning. Most likely to see Marian again, though Robin would not tell him for sure. Since then, however, Robin had been content on not moving from his spot, other than to briefly pace around, stretching his muscles.

Will shook his head, unable to stand seeing the man like this. Robin had been the same when the man had learned of Marian's betrothal to Guy. Distant, quiet, withdrawn...Will knew the man needed a distraction.

"Robin," he crossed the gap, waiting for the man to meet his gaze. When it was apparent Robin would not, Will decided to go on anyway.

"The camp's falling apart; I need to make repairs."

"So?" Robin merely shrugged, "do what you have to."

"I need supplies," Will pressed. "Cloth mostly, but I could use some new tools. Nottingham's our best bet."

"Later."

"What, are you just going to sit here all day? Come on Robin, you've got to move on. You can't just give up."

"I'm not giving up," Robin said sharply, meeting his gaze for the first time just then. The anger he saw there made him take a step back, thinking perhaps he had pushed just a little too far. However, Robin shook his head, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest.

"I'm thinking."

"You have a plan?" Much wondered. He was standing next to Will now, and his question got the attention of the others who had kept quiet during the whole ordeal.

"No," Robin admitted. "They have us in an unfortunate spot, and I don't know how to turn that around."

"So we'll figure out something," Will encouraged. "But we have work to do, and it needs to be done before long."

"So go to Nottingham," Robin looked up towards him. "You know the way."

Here he faltered. He did not want to be the first to say he was still worried. Before he would have argued with Robin about being able to go alone, that he could take care of himself. Things were not quite the same now, and he wanted the other to come with him. If not for his own sake, then as a distraction.

"I'll go with you," Allan offered, the man already moving. Will hesitated, hoping Robin would change his mind, but when the man did not move, he nodded. Yet as he turned, Robin called to him, and the hope returned.

Robin had moved to his feet, crossing the camp. A moment later he returned, passing the bag to him. The same bag they had managed to save from Locksley.

"Keep your heads down; you get in, get what you need, and get back out. Do not cause any trouble, you hear me?"

"Yes, _milord_," Allan rolled his eyes as he took the bag.

"I mean it," Robin warned, turning from one to the other. Will found himself nodding.

"We won't be there any longer than necessary, I promise," he hesitated for a moment. "You really aren't going to come?"

Robin shook his head, easing himself back down on the bedroll. "I have to sort this out."

So he would not budge. It made him a little angry, but Robin was as stubborn as he always was. He nodded towards Allan, moving out to take the lead. They had not gotten very far when they heard Djaq calling to Robin. It caught his attention, and he turned back to see what had taken place.

Robin was standing near her, holding one of the letters. Will quickly made his way back. "What is it?"

Robin didn't answer right away, a look of confusion on his face as his eyes skimmed the parchment. Finally he shook his head, looking up at him. "This doesn't make any sense."

"You have not heard anything?" Djaq wondered, causing him to frown.

"Heard anything about what?" Allan wondered, having trailed back as well.

"According to this, the king has sent out letters to select individuals...and the prince believes I am one of those individuals."

"A letter? About what?"

Robin shook his head again. "It doesn't say, other than that it may contain 'vital information' about the king. But why would the king write to me? There's nothing I can offer him..."

"Well, you did save his life," Much pointed out.

"And he doesn't know you are an outlaw," Will added.

Robin pursed his lips, taking in what had been said. "But if the king did send me a letter, then that would mean the letter would have arrived at Locksley."

"You don't mean to say you're going back there," Much warned.

"If there is a letter, then I need to know about it," Robin started, but was cut off by Djaq.

"No, here," she held up another letter from the pile, "It says here it was not found."

"And the price on my head has been raised," Robin finished reading. "They believe I have it on me. Well, that explains why the prince wants me caught." He fell silent, reading on through the rest of the letter. As he finished, he held up a hand.

"Here," he pointed towards the words at the bottom.

"What does it say?" Will wondered, unable to distinguish the letters.

"The prince is offering more than just a cash reward; he's offering Chaffee the position of sheriff."

"Of where?" Will asked alarmingly. "Here? In Nottingham?"

"That is not good," John remarked, and Will found himself agreeing.

"He's bad enough as the sheriff's right hand, there's no telling what he would do if he became sheriff."

"That is not something I would want to see," Robin agreed. He looked up at them. "I wonder if the sheriff knows anything about this deal?"

"Well you spoke with him earlier, didn't you?"

Robin nodded, "He did seem frustrated at being undermined...we could use this in our favor."

"Work with the sheriff?"

"We can both benefit from this situation."

"But he's the sheriff, Robin," Will pointed out. He did not like the idea of working with the man who had so recently imprisoned them all. There was no telling what the sheriff would do, of what he would agree to, only to turn his back on them all.

"And he can help us; we have a common goal, to remove Chaffee from his position. Or at least he will," Robin remarked, looking down at the letter. "As soon as I show him this, he'll agree."

"Or he will want the letter himself," Much replied dryly. "Then what? He will take you prisoner."

"There is no letter," Robin replied. "Or if there is, I haven't gotten it yet. The only other place it would be is at the manor, but it doesn't sound like anything was found."

"Maybe it hasn't been sent yet?" Much offered.

"No; according to this it was sent out months ago."

"Months ago? That would put Gisborne in Locksley," Will pointed out.

Robin was quiet, nodding after a moment. "I didn't think about that. I'm going to speak with Marian, the rest of you stay here. I'll be back shortly."

"You mean us, too?" Allan wondered, holding up the bag. To this, Robin hesitated, but finally shook his head.

"Go to Nottingham, get what you need. I'll catch you up later on what's happened."

Will could almost curse him. He wanted to stay, wanted to see what was going on. But there was no telling how long Robin would spend with Marian, and they did need the supplies. Allan was calling to him, already taking the lead. With a sigh he turned, moving quickly to catch up to the other. If they were quick, they would be back before nightfall.

* * *

There was little Marian could tell him. If Gisborne did have a letter, then he said nothing about it. Robin had tried to argue the fact he would be keeping it quiet, but she pointed out the simple fact that if Gisborne was aware of such a deal, he would be using it to secure his own position. As it was, Gisborne was growing anxious living the life of an outlaw, and pressuring her to move on.

Robin had once again tried to get her to come to camp, but she had refused. It was the third time she had said she was not ready, and was beginning to wonder if she ever would come. Or perhaps she was saying it simply to appease him, as she was trying to appease Gisborne.

The thought made his stomach churn as he moved to his feet. The others were asleep, and he wasted little time in gathering his things. He took with him his bow and quiver, as well as a torch, though he did not bother to light that until he was away from the camp. He did not want the others to know what he was up to.

It was difficult to see in the night, but he had little other choice. The tree he had chosen as a target was close enough to sight in on, and he strung the arrow slowly, willing his fingers to obey. Carefully he drew in a breath, pulling the string back. At the first sign of tension he could feel it falter, doing his best to grip it tighter, trying to hold on.

Suddenly the arrow took off, flying well before he was ready, driving into the ground. He allowed himself a breath before he pulled another arrow, stringing it once again, following the motions, a bit slower this time. He eased up when he felt his fingers give, trying to get a better hold before he drew again. He made it further, but still it was not enough, the arrow flying on its own path.

Angry now he pulled another arrow, and then a second, a third in all a quick succession, stringing and pulling back only to have it soar wildly in an unintended direction. He kept going, no longer even trying to aim, just firing as fast he could, the anger welling up inside of him. He could hear several arrows hit ground, could hear them break, knew he was damaging them beyond repair. It was reckless, for arrows were hard enough to come by and they could not just waste them as he was doing, but the truth was that he did not care. What use were arrows if he could not shoot?

Suddenly his fingers closed on empty air, a signal his quiver was empty. Frustrated he brought his bow down, the end digging into the dirt below, bending under the pressure. The abuse would break it, he knew, but he did not care.

Robin slowly sank to his knees, hands still clutching his bow, head resting against the wood. He had hoped it would not be like this. Had told himself time and time again that things would get better. Had led himself to believe he would be able to shoot again once his fingers had healed. But he had been a fool.

It had started even before he had left Devonshire. The fall he had taken in the forest there had turned them, had made them burn with a slight pain. At first he had ignored it, believing it would go away on its own. But it had not, and he had meant for Nathaniel to check them one last time before he had gone. Yet he had been distracted, mostly by Much's first decision of remaining behind. So he had forgotten, and two days into the journey back he had taken off the bindings Nathaniel had so carefully applied.

They had been loose to start with, and the wrapping caused his skin to itch in the most uncomfortable way. His fingers had not hurt any worse without them, and so Robin chose to ignore the pain. It had gone away eventually, but too late he noticed his fingers had taken an odd curve. And with each passing day he began to notice that it was harder to bend them, to make them move as he needed.

Robin hadn't tried to draw his bow until just a few nights ago. He would wait until the night when the others were sleeping, would try his best to hold the arrow, to try and line up his aim. Each night had led to the same result, and Robin had been patient, trying to remind himself that he could not learn in one night. But three nights in and he saw no noticeable improvement, and the realization of what it meant was finally sinking in.

He drew in a steady breath, trying to banish the tears that had crept from behind his closed eyes. "I know you're there."

How he hated them; he could not get a single moment of peace. He hated all of them, hated being here, hated having being forced to live in the woods, hated everything about it...and yet he knew none of that was true.

"Robin?" The voice was apprehensive, Robin turning to watch as Will came up near him.

"Now you know," he said quietly, unable to keep the shame from his voice. There was no point in trying to deny anything; he knew full well that man had seen him fail.

"I don't understand," Will shook his head.

"Isn't it obvious?" Robin was bitter, staring out ahead into the darkness. "I can't shoot."

"But how...you always," the man was at a loss for words. Robin knew that Will was watching him. Slowly he let out a sigh.

"You remember what I told you?" he asked, "How I was able to find Much?"

Will watched him for a moment before realizing Robin was waiting for an answer. The man nodded, prompting Robin to continue.

"That I went in as a guard, and that I was found out after a time?"

Again there was another nod. Robin let out a sigh, trying to figure out the best way to continue. This was the part he had neglected to tell the others, had simply led them to believe nothing had taken place. But that was far from the truth.

"They were not exceptionally happy about that," he explained dryly. "I was...interrogated," he chose the word carefully.

For several long seconds the silence stretched between them, Robin allowing his last words to sink in. He turned to Will, could see the man's confusion, before it struck him.

"You were tortured."

It wasn't a question, didn't have to be one, but still Robin nodded. It hadn't been the first time he had been tortured, but it had been by far the worst he had faced. He liked to believe he had been strong enough to endure it, but the damage done was becoming clearer with each passing day.

"I wouldn't give them what they wanted, I couldn't...doing so would have put Much in danger," he went on. He had eventually given in to them when the threat of abuse turned to Rhodri, who was but a child. Dax had protected Much then, Robin realizing now that he never had gotten the chance to ask the man why he had done so. It was a moot point, for it mattered little to the story he was telling now. He took a breath.

"They did not care what they did to me; I was not supposed to survive. They knew I was an archer, so they did the one thing that they thought would break me," he continued, holding up his hand. Even now he could remember the pain, could hear the awful sound as the bones separated from one another. The mere thought caused him to bring his hand back down against his chest to protect it, as if it might suddenly happen again.

"They broke your fingers," Will stated quietly. Robin could only nod, turning to look at him.

"I had hoped with time it would get better, that I could be able to shoot again. But it is useless..."

Will said nothing for a time, the silence their only company as the chill of the night caught up with Robin. He hadn't noticed it until now, shivering as it started to settle in his bones. Camp would provide warmth, but he wasn't ready to go back. What would he say to the others?

It wouldn't be long before they knew about him. Even if he swore Will to silence, they would figure out soon enough on their own.

"You can learn," Will offered then.

"I can't grip the arrow properly," Robin cut him off. "I have tried more times than you can imagine. It is no use...I am of no use."

"That is not true," Will was quick to defend, but Robin was just as quick in cutting him off.

"If I cannot aim, then I am a liability. I am a danger to all of you. I could just as easily shoot one of you as I could an enemy. And it is worse with a sword," he spat out quickly. While it was true he could fight with both hands, he was not as good with his weak and therefore could not always rely on it. Not when it mattered most. He was unable to keep a firm grip with his other due to his fingers, and any amount of force caused pain. Robin drew in a breath.

"If I cannot fight, then I cannot lead. I cannot expect the rest of you to cover for my faults."

"You know that is not true," Will answered in response, his voice just as angry. "How many times have you and the others covered for me when I could not fight? You did not abandon me and we as sure won't abandon you either."

"It is different," he replied testily.

"There is no difference."

"You were not expected to fight, we kept you at camp until you were well enough to do so. I do not have the same luxury, and even if I did it would not matter because this is something that cannot be fixed!"

"You do not know that," Will replied coldly.

"I do know," Robin answered. "I want to hope...but there comes a time when you can no longer do so. You just have to accept it."

"Robin-"

"This discussion is over," he moved to his feet, going to collect the fallen arrows.

"There has to be something-" the man tried again, but Robin cut him off.

"Listen, that's-"

"No, you listen to me," Will snapped, bringing Robin to a stop. It was a tone of voice he hadn't heard the man use before, the words laced with anger.

"We are in this together; you made that very clear when you saved our lives back in Nottingham. There isn't anything you won't do for us. The same goes for you too, and you do not just get to choose when to give up."

The outburst was unexpected, leaving Robin unsure of what to say. Will took a breath, calming down, his next words softer as he spoke.

"Djaq might be able to do something-"

He held his hand up in front of Will, shaking his head. "This here, this cannot be changed. What has happened is already done, and there's no going back from that."

"You will not know unless you ask."

"There is no point-"

"Then ask her!" Will cried, "If there is nothing she can do, then at least you know. Or is that why you do not want to ask?"

"Don't be ridiculous," he turned away, but stopped as Will grabbed his shoulder.

"It is, isn't it? You're afraid."

"Afraid of what?"

"Afraid to hear the truth. That there might not be anything that can be done. Because if you don't hear it, then there is still a chance it might get better. Hearing it makes it real, and you're frightened of that."

Will was right, and he hated that. Hated that he could so easily be read. Robin took a breath in, letting it go.

"I have been able to shoot for as long as I can remember; it is a gift, Will. A gift from God; it's part of who I am, it is what makes me whole."

He held up his bow, catching it in the moonlight. "With this I can take a life, or I can save one. I can make things right, but not only that; when I shoot, I feel...I feel free, like everything's going to be alright. That somehow, we'll come out of this ahead. It comes to me as easy as breathing does...and without it...without it, I feel as though I can't breathe."

Will said nothing for a moment, another bout of silence spreading between them. Then he shook his head, his words quiet.

"Robin...I don't know if anything can be done; but what if there is something that can be done? Are you willing to risk all of that because you are afraid to hear the truth?"

"Sometimes not knowing the truth is easier," Robin admitted.

"But at least you would know."

He nodded. That was a point, he supposed. And once he knew, he could work dealing with the disappointment. At the very least, he would no longer wonder about it, the thought constantly on his mind.

"If there is nothing that can be done," Will continued, "_if, _then we will work until you do get better."

"I don't think that will happen."

"Why not? You had us practice with weapons until we were better. You pushed us, and you did not let us give up because we failed in the beginning. You remember how bad I was with a sword when you first took me to the forest?"

"Yes," Robin let out a laugh. Will had been able to handle an ax well enough, but he had wanted all his men well versed in swordplay as well. He knew the blade had been awkward and heavy for Will to hold, but the man had humored him, had followed his instructions, had kept trying even though he lost every time. Eventually he had gotten better, good enough that he could almost beat him in a sparring match. Almost...

"So, we will do the same. Will it be different?" the man nodded, "Perhaps, but different does not mean that it's bad. You remember the time I was caught in the mill? How my leg was hurt?"

Robin nodded, the memory dark in his mind. The gang had split up during that time briefly; Will, Allan and John had become entangled in one of Gisborne's ploy, had been led into a trap, and Will had almost paid with his life.

"I had a limp for a long time; hell, I still have one now, but you would never know, not just from looking. That's because I learned to work with it, not against it. You will do the same, you'll figure it out."

He wished he had as much confidence as Will did. The man made it seem so easy, but Robin wondered if Will really understood how much this affected him. He swallowed.

"How do you know I will?"

To this, Will shrugged. "You're Robin Hood; you figure everything out."

He couldn't help but grin. "I think you were in those dungeons for too long."

"I know I was," Will agreed with a grimace, "but even if I hadn't been, that wouldn't change my answer. You will figure it out, maybe not as quick as you would like, but you will shoot again. You have my word."

Robin wasn't sure if he believed him or not, but still he gave him a smile, "Thank you, Will."

"Let's go back to camp," Will suggested, picking up the arrows. Robin moved to help with the last few, putting the ones that could be saved back into his quiver.

"You will talk with Djaq then?"

Robin hesitated a moment before nodding. "You are right, I am afraid. But you are also right in that it would do no harm."

Will was also right about one more thing; he would figure this out. He would find a way to shoot again.

**TBC**


	5. Chapter 5

**Once again thanks goes to Kegel for the beta. Here we are at the next installment. If you are reading, leave a quick review so I know you are there! :)**

* * *

**Chapter 5**

She had seen the problem immediately. Still she had said nothing, keeping her thoughts to herself as she ran her fingers over his hand. Robin was patient with her, even though she could feel how tense he was beneath her hold. He never once met her gaze, his focus instead on what she was doing, obliging her numerous requests to move his fingers first one way, then another. More than once he grimaced when she prodded, biting his lip as she moved the fingers on her own.

There had been little need for questions when Robin asked if she could look at his hand. There was even less need to ask how he had gotten the injury. The sort of damage she was seeing here was not caused by accidental means, which left very few other options. Options she was certain Robin would not speak of, and that was his right, she supposed. The injury was not entirely old, but it had happened long enough ago to suggest it was not recent.

Djaq bit her lip as she sat back, still holding onto his hand. Robin was watching her now, the first time since he had asked her. She knew he was waiting for an answer, and she was weighing her words carefully.

"There is something I can do," she admitted, meeting his gaze. There was hope in his eyes, and she could hear a sigh of relief from Will. They had come back together, the pair of them, earlier that morning. It was only a few minutes ago that Robin had approached her, all due to Will's prodding. She could understand the reason behind it, for she had already suspected it before Robin had said anything to her. That was why she was being so careful now; she did not want to raise his hopes, only to have them be crushed later on.

"You can fix it?" Robin breathed, his voice quiet.

Again she was slow to answer. "Perhaps...but it will not be pleasant."

"What must you do?"

The slight warning had little effect on the man. It did not surprise her; Robin did not always listen to better judgment. Djaq was quiet for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to explain it. She moved then, running her fingers down his.

"When a bone is broken, it must be kept straight so it can heal," she explained, remembering what her father had explained to her. It had been from him she had learned her skill, the same skill that had provided so useful within their group. Most of her learning had come from flesh wounds, of making remedies that helped heal the body. Very little had been centered around bones, but her father had told her nonetheless.

"They were bound straight," Robin told her. To this Djaq nodded.

"It takes time to heal; many days," she added. "Many more days than a cut from a blade does. You have to be patient."

"So we bind them?" he wondered, "and they will heal?"

"Your fingers are healed, Robin," she pointed out. Almost fully healed, but that wasn't the point she was trying to make.

"I can't move them how I need," he argued, and she was nodding.

"Because they healed badly," she agreed. "A wound can heal by itself, but it does not mean it heals the right way."

"So then there is nothing that can be done?" he asked bitterly.

"When something is not done right the first time, what do you do?"

There was no response, instead a look of confusion on his face. Djaq let out a sigh, trying to find a better way to explain. She glanced around, and it came to her then.

"When you tie a knot, and it is not strong, you tie it again," she indicated the the ropes that held the camp together. When Robin nodded, she continued. "But first you must untie what was there, otherwise it is still weak."

"You mean you have to break them?" Will cried out in shock.

Robin had figured it out in the same moment, for she had seen the realization in his eyes. And he was not happy with the idea; she could tell by how quickly he pulled back, holding his hand against his chest.

"You can't really mean that?" Much too was bewildered. As were the others, each interjecting their own opinion of how they felt on the mater. She said nothing, watching Robin instead. The man had said nothing, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. When the others quieted down, she continued.

"I can make a draught, so you will not feel it. I will bind them, and they must stay like that for a time. Then you will have to learn to use them again, for they will be weak. It will take time, Robin, and it will hurt."

He was quiet for a time, a very long time, and she almost assumed he would not do it, and she would not blame him. Finally he responded.

"Will it fix it?"

"I do not know," she answered honestly. "I will not lie to you. I have never done this before, I have only heard stories."

To this he nodded, meeting her gaze again. "And you? Do you believe these stories?"

"My father told me," she said slowly. "He has taught me the rest I know. So I believe it could help, yes."

Again he nodded, letting out a sigh. "Alright-"

"You need not decide now," she told him. "You can think about it, let me know in the morning-"

"No," he was shaking his head. "If I think about it, then I won't want to do it. And it needs to be done."

His decision was final; Djaq moved to her feet, gathering what she would need. It would have to be a heavy draught; she was not sure how long it would take. Behind her she could hear Much talking, arguing with Robin.

"Master, you can't be serious! There has to be another way-"

"There is no other way," Robin answered.

"But it is barbaric-"

"What happened to me back in Devonshire was barbaric," Robin yelled back. "I did not choose for this to happen, but it needs to be fixed; _I _need for it to be fixed."

"I'm only trying to help."

"If you truly want to help then go away."

Robin's words had been bitter and angry, causing her to turn to see the pair behind her. Robin was still where she had left him, but Much had moved, standing over him now. She could see the tension on Robin's face, the anger that was there. Much seemed offended, clearly missing the fact Robin was already stressed and that he was making things worse.

"If you meant that-"

"Much, let's go hunting," Allan called suddenly, distracting the man.

"Hunting? How can you think of hunting at a time like this?"

"Easy," Allan replied. "I'm thinking we're not going anywhere today, and of how nice some fresh meat would be. So come on. John, Will? You coming too?"

"I'll stay here and help," Will offered.

She smiled, nodding at Will in thanks. She would not be able to do all of this on her own, yet she understood what Allan was doing. He was providing a distraction, a way for them to do what needed to be done without any interference. She could see Much hesitate, the man unsure of what exactly to do. She was about to convince him to go, but there was little need for that.

"Go on," Robin was the first to speak up.

"I'm not going to leave you," Much argued. "I want to help."

"I meant what I said; if you want to help, then leave me be."

"Why?"

"Because you make me nervous," Robin said testily. His voice had dropped, but it was still backed by anger. Anger, she suspected, that came from fear. Djaq said nothing, allowing the two men to work things out. Her place was not between the pair of them; their history was so entwined with one another she figured that there was nothing that could said that could truly damage their relationship. Robin was angry now, but he would see sense, and he would make things right.

"If I thought you meant that-"

"Much, please," Robin cut him off.

"Fine, I'm going," Much held his hands up. "But don't come running to me when you end up losing your fingers."

She turned back to her task as Much left with the others, a smile on her face. It became a grin when she turned back around, seeing the look on Robin's face.

"I won't...lose my fingers...will I?" he asked hesitantly as he approached.

"Not unless I cut them off," she teased, laughing at the shock on his face.

"You wouldn't!"

"Drink," she handed the cup to him, the humor short-lived. She glanced up at Will, who was watching from over her shoulder, glad he had stayed.

* * *

He was surprised by two things; the first being how much effort it took to break a bone, and the second being how easy it had been at the same time. Following Djaq's instructions they had done what was necessary, the entire process leaving his stomach sour and a dry, bitter taste in his mouth, while the sounds were stuck in his head. The only thing he was grateful for was that Robin was completely unaware to what was taking place. Though he was certain to feel it when he woke.

He had made several bits of wood, assisting Djaq in lining the bones, and bracing them and wrapping them with cloth, making sure it was firm. When that had been done, they lay the man down, covering him with a blanket and then they sat down by the fire, the two of them quiet. Finally he could not stand it much more, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"Will it really help?"

"I meant it when I said that I do not know. We can just hope."

"What if it doesn't? What if we made it worse?" the fear was with him now. He had been the one to convince Robin to talk with Djaq. If it did not change things, if it did end up worse than before, he would not know what he would do.

"Do not think like that," she snapped. "Do you not trust me?"

"Of course I do," he answered quickly. There was no question there. Djaq had nursed him back to health more than once, and if he ever needed someone to care for him again he would choose her in a heartbeat. But still he was worried.

"Then leave that worry with me," she met his gaze, turning to glance at the sleeping man. "We must watch, and help him. He will not be patient; he will want to use them before they are ready. _He cannot_."

The last part was stressed, and Will nodded. "For how long?"

"It can take weeks," she admitted. "Sometimes longer than that. I am not certain. We will have to see."

"See what?"

He turned as the others came into camp, the result of their hunt easy to see. John carried with him some small game tied together with ropes, the man dropping it the ground near the fire. He stood, staring over to where Robin was.

"Is it done?"

"Yes," Djaq answered with a nod.

To this, the big man nodded, but Will could see Much scowling. "I can't believe he let you do it."

"It was his choice," Will pointed out.

"Yes, but it is madness. Surely we could have done something else."

"If there was another way," Djaq agreed. "It is not always that easy."

"How did he hurt his hand in the first place?" Allan wondered, sitting down near the fire with the rest of them. He pulled free a knife, cutting the rope that bound the small game. He focused his efforts on preparing one for supper.

"He did not do it to himself, if that is what you are asking," Much answered.

"Well, no-"

"He was tortured," Will answered for the man. Robin had not gone into any detail when he confessed, but it had been enough to allude to the fact it had been brutal. He watched Allan grimace, the man shaking his head.

"That is nasty."

"Whatever the case, it's over now," Will spoke up again, trying to shift the conversation. The talk was starting to unnerve him. "What are we going to do about Chaffee?"

The new information they had found left little option. They could not simply do nothing; if Chaffee was trying to secure the position of sheriff, it meant trouble for them all. Not just the outlaws, but the people as well. Already they were suffering, and it made him angry they could do nothing to help.

"We get rid of him," Much shrugged his shoulders as though it was no big deal.

"We can't get rid of him," Allan laughed. "Didn't you hear what Robin said? If the man goes bye-bye, then Locklsey and Nottingham go bye-bye as well."

"Well, we get rid of him, and one of us will pretend to be him, so the prince would not know," Much corrected himself.

"I think the prince would notice," Will pointed out. "It's not like we'd be impersonating some random noble. Chaffee is..." he trailed, off trying to find the right word.

"Revolting, that is what he is."

Will could agree to that, but it wasn't what he was quite trying to say. "The prince sent him here, he would know it wasn't him. And what about the sheriff, and the guards? They would notice as well too."

"What if he was to disappear?" Allan asked suddenly, earning a laugh from them all. "I'm being serious. We could tie him up somewhere, send him back to France or whatever. Technically we won't be killing him."

"I think the man disappearing would be equivalent to killing him," Will explained. "Even more so when no one can find him."

"Well, we write a letter to the prince, say it is from Chaffee, that he's going back home or something."

"Except we have no way of getting it to the prince," the voice that answered was groggy, drawing Will's attention over to where Robin lay. The man hadn't moved, except to cup one hand in the other. He was quiet for a moment, then took a breath and continued.

"Not to mention that the prince wouldn't be likely to believe it; Chaffee wouldn't just leave, not when he's under orders, and most certainly not if he's being offered such a prize."

"How long have you been awake?" Will wondered, paying little attention to what the man had just said.

"Long enough," the reply came out almost as a whisper.

"How's your hand?"

"Hurts," Robin whispered again. The man took a few more breaths, his voice stronger when he continued. "Well, keep talking; we need some sort of plan."

Djaq had already moved to her feet, no doubt getting something that would help him deal with the pain. Will bit his lip, turning away as he tried to redirect his thoughts. Near him, Allan spoke up.

"Not being funny, but you're usually the one who comes up with the plans."

"Well, pretend that I'm not here. Can't be that difficult," Robin answered sourly.

Out of all of them, Much seemed to be the only one not bothered by the comment. "Well, what if the prince writes him a letter, and tells him he has to leave?"

"Why would the prince do that?" Allan wondered.

"Well, it wouldn't be from the prince," Much clarified, "it would be from us. Chaffee would just think it's from the prince."

"And what happens when Chaffee writes the prince back?" Robin asked. He was sitting now, with the help of Djaq, drinking something.

"I thought you weren't here?" Allan muttered.

Will paid little attention, watching instead as Robin made a face, pushing the cup away. "That is awful."

"You like the pain?" Djaq waited for the man to shake his head before offering the cup again. "Then drink."

He did so, a sour look on his face as he finished. Afterward, he rubbed his eyes, before pulling the blanket around him tighter. Then he continued as if nothing had even happened.

"Chaffee and the prince are in constant contact, we know that much at least. The prince would know for certain if something happened, and Chaffee would question any strange orders that came from the prince. Even if we were somehow to make it sound convincing, how would we deliver it? They most likely have a personal messenger, and even if they do not, Chaffee knows all of us too well that we wouldn't be able to disguise ourselves as one."

"So, we do nothing?" Allan shrugged his shoulders.

"We have to do something," Robin argued. "Much does have a good idea, though," the man glanced up to where he sat.

"Of course I do...what idea?"

"You can't seriously want to impersonate Chaffee?" Will was surprised. There was no way that would be possible...

"No, not that," Robin answered him. "Much's basic idea is to have the prince dismiss Chaffee."

"Yeah, but how would that change anything?"

"If Chaffee falls out of favor with the prince, he'll revoke the protection given. John expects Chaffee to get the shire back under control, yet he knows of the sheriff's reputation. I suspect that's the real reason why he gave the protection in the first place, to keep the sheriff from killing off his man, it has nothing to do with us."

"So we can kill him...and it's alright?"

"No," Robin shook his head at Much's question. "But...what if Chaffee ended up doing a worse job than the sheriff and Gisborne?"

"They already are," Will argued. That was easy to see how much the shire was suffering. Robin was still shaking his head.

"Not from a political viewpoint. The taxes are being paid, and that's all John cares about. He doesn't care what happens to the people as long as he gets the money that is due."

"So, what then?"

"We up our game," Robin said firmly. "We take everything, and I mean everything. Nothing gets through this forest. We'll build some extra holds, store our provisions. When Chaffee is unable to answer for the loss of funds, the prince will demote him."

"This is a big forest, Robin," Will pointed out. "We can't possibly stop everything, we don't even know what routes they're using."

"True," Robin agreed. "But the sheriff would know."

"And you think he would help us?"

To this, Robin nodded. "What does he have to lose?"

"Robin, no," John spoke now, shaking his head. "I do not trust the sheriff."

"The sheriff will help," Robin pressed, "I can offer him protection. That is something he does not have at the moment."

"So you help," John argued, "what happens after? The sheriff will not help you."

"I will worry about that when the time comes. Right now what matters is the people, and we cannot help them while Chaffee is here. First he goes, and to do that, we have to stop any taxes that may be going through. And for that, we need the sheriff."

Will wasn't sure about that; he was even less sure considering Robin's newest injury. The man would not be able to fight much, if at all. As soon as they started taking some tax money, there was little doubt in his mind that Chaffee would post more guards to protect it. It was only a matter of time before they were outnumbered. He was about to point this out, but was cut off by another, new voice. One he recognized, as did Robin, for the man was moving to his feet.

"Marian?"

She was calling out to them, struggling up the side of the hill to reach their camp. Will was by her side, gripping her arm and helping her the rest of the of the way. Robin met them at the top, reaching out a hand as well.

"What is it?" Robin asked, concern on his face. Will too could feel the same, for she had come suddenly and appeared flustered. She drew a breath, answering them just then.

"It's Guy."

* * *

Nottingham was busy that day, one of the first true market days he had seen since coming back. It was the result of the earnings gathered by workers from other shires, and though there was plenty to sell, there were many who could not afford to buy. More than once the guards chased down a peasant who tried to swipe a bit of fruit, or a loaf of bread. It detoured most from trying again; most, but not all.

One was a young man, just out of his childhood years, who went running past, three guards close on his heels. Automatically he turned, moving to help, but a hand on his wrist caught him, pulled him back into the shadows. He stumbled back, hood falling off his head as he was dragged against the wall.

"You can't save them all," Will warned him, his voice held low.

Robin scowled, shaking his arm free. "We're not saving anyone." He watched, a grimace on his face as the man was caught, the guards quickly subduing him. "This is madness."

"We're here for a reason; not only that, but it won't do them any good if we're found helping them. Remember what you told me yesterday? Keep your head down, don't cause any trouble? How about you stick to your own advice."

Robin rolled his eyes, hardly listening to the lecture. He knew Will was right, but that did not make him any more pleased with the situation. Reaching, he grabbed his hood, pulling it back over his head. "We're here for two reasons."

"We find Gisborne, and then the sheriff," Will nodded. He was leaning out from the shadows, checking their surroundings. With a nod they moved on, melting into the crowd. No one paid attention to them; they appeared no more suspicious than the other beggars that walked the street.

Gisborne had been the main reason they were here today. Robin would have come eventually in order to speak with the sheriff, but he hadn't anticipated it being this soon. Djaq had not been happy about his decision, what with had just taken place that morning. There was still pain, enough pain that he was beginning to regret having her do it in the first place. But there was no going back now.

Yet when Marian had come to them and spoken with him privately, he knew it could not wait. While he had been glad to see her, the reason why she had come had bothered him. It seemed Gisborne was not happy with how things were turning out. And now she wanted Robin to make things right.

There was nothing he owed Gisborne. He could have easily said no, could let the fool go off to get himself killed. He was here, in Nottingham, somewhere. Hoping to seek the approval of the sheriff. A complete fool; even if the sheriff wanted Gisborne's loyalty again it would do no good. Gisborne was a marked man, and the sheriff would not risk working with him.

When he had pointed this out to Marian, she had been quick to chastise him. Gisborne had only been in this position because of what he had done to help her. And for that, she claimed he owed him. If not him, then the rest of his men. Robin had finally agreed, though why he was not sure. And exactly how he was going to do so, he could not say.

"There," Will caught his attention, pointing ahead. Robin could see the man now, lingering in the shadows. They were still a ways from the castle, but it was obvious to see that Gisborne was slowly working his way there.

"I will deal with this," Robin told him, "keep watch."

It was easy to catch up with the other. To slip up behind him in the shadows. Gisborne was not moving very fast, rather walking at an erratic pace that changed course of direction more than once. He would often stop, take a few steps back, then go forward again, only to hesitate.

"Not so easy, is it?" he mused. Gisborne was quick to turn, a scowl on his face.

"Hood," came the casual greeting. "Finally come out of hiding? Though I must say I'm surprised you let your men suffer for so long; or maybe not so surprised at all, considering-"

"Considering what?"

"You are an outlaw," the man pointed out.

Robin found himself laughing, "So are you."

"A minor detail," he argued. "but you showed your true cowardice when you failed to save your men...and Marian."

"What are you doing here?" Robin was starting to get tired of this conversation.

"My business is none of your concern."

He shook his head, smiling. "You really think the sheriff will welcome you back with open arms?"

"I have been nothing but loyal to him."

"Except for the part where you collaborated with outlaws to rescue a prisoner from his dungeons."

"He will overlook that," Gisborne argued firmly. "I have more to offer him than Chaffee does. He trusts me."

Robin doubted that very much. There was nothing Gisborne could offer the sheriff, and even if he did, there was little that could be done. Vaysey was being held in check by the prince. There was nothing he could do about that matter.

"Go back to the forest, Gisborne, before you get yourself killed."

"I am not one of your men to be commanded-"

"Robin, guards!" Will hissed the warning, meeting him in the shadows. There was little other encouragement needed, Robin pulling away. He watched briefly, seeing Guy run the opposite direction. Will pressed a hand to his back, pushing him on.

They melted back into the crowd, pulling to another side once they had lost the guard. Robin turned, looking over the market, trying to see if he could spot the man. Once again it was Will who found him first, grabbing his shoulder, indicating with a nod. Gisborne was well across the market now, headed away from the castle. He could only hope the man would continue to the forest.

In any other case he would follow, but they still had another thing to take care of. Robin met Will's gaze, before turning to the castle. They would need a way to get in, and a way to get to the sheriff.

**TBC**


	6. Chapter 6

**Thanks to Kegel for the beta. **

**And welcome new readers.**

** Leave a review! Reviews make the story come round!**

* * *

**Chapter 5**

He shouldn't have been surprised to see the man. Vaysey knew it was only a matter of time before Hood made his appearance. Not because he had promised to come back, but rather because of the fact that Chaffee had stated Hood had been snooping around his property. Vaysey had thought it all out previously; he wouldn't have to catch Hood; Hood would come to him. And how right he was.

Still, he couldn't help but be surprised when he walked into his chambers only to find the outlaw resting comfortably in his chair, his feet up on the table. At first glace it almost seemed as though the man was asleep, hood drawn over his face, arms crossed over his chest. But the man was watching him, meeting his gaze before drifting up and over his shoulder. Vaysey turned, only to find an arrow pointed directly at him. How amusing...

"You remember me?" The man holding the bow asked. "You were going to have me tortured..."

"Oh," the sheriff replied, trying to keep his voice bland. "A misunderstanding, I'm sure." There was some fear in him, but only a little. Hood would have not come all this way simply to kill him. No...there was more to it than that.

"You know how this works," Robin spoke quietly. Vaysey turned back to him, doing the best to ignore the fact there was an arrow at his backside. Hood inclined his head to the chair opposite of him. "Sit."

"Slight problem," he raised a finger, pointing towards him. "You are in my chair."

"And I'm quite enjoying it," the other shrugged indifferently. "And seeing that I'm being kind enough to not let my man kill you, you can be a generous host and forgo your comfort for a moment."

"You won't kill me," he pointed out the obvious, which Robin didn't even debate. Instead the man nodded to the chair again. With a sigh he obliged, all the while working out how he could take the man captive.

It would be easy to call guards; but then they would scatter. Robin had no difficultly in getting in and out of the castle unseen. He was like a mouse; an annoying pest that could find the smallest of cracks and slip on through. No, that would not work. And charging the man himself would prove of little use; he would have an arrow in him within a second, and seeing that Hood would not have him killed, it would be a painful ordeal.

Vaysey could debate his options till the end of time and still not find a way to accomplish it. Yet he suspected part of that had to do with the fact that he _did not_ want to capture the man. He would deny that if anyone ever dared to bring it up, yet the fact that the outlaw was still on the loose brought him the smallest amount of pleasure, simply because it annoyed Chaffee. And, he reasoned, even if he did capture Hood, there was no doubt in his mind that Chaffee would take credit for that, as he had with all the other outlaws, too.

So he had little mind to restrain him. Even more so that Robin was here, and apparently wanting to speak with him. It would not be the first time Robin had agreed to work with him to solve a problem. And there was definitely a problem, but Vaysey appeared uninterested simply because he _was _interested in learning how much Robin knew.

"I had wondered, that why if a man that is supposed to serve you constantly undermines you, that you do nothing to remedy that issue," the man began.

"Perhaps I've grown fond of him," he suggested with a shrug of his shoulders. The grin on Robin's face told him the man didn't fall for it.

"I have a hard time believing you're fond of anything but yourself."

"Touche," he congratulated the other man on the remark, though he could have said the same exact thing to Hood and been just as accurate.

"So why the deal?" Robin wondered. "Why does the prince send your master-at-arms with protection, but gives you none?"

That was still a question he was trying to answer. Yet he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "I can blame you for that. You've soured my reputation."

The outlaw laughed, rolling his eyes. "Well, it pleases me to know that you think so highly of me. I'm honored, but really, keep in mind that Chaffee hasn't done anything that you haven't."

"Which is?"

"You haven't caught me."

"Oh, but I will-"

"No, you won't," the man said, his words backed by confidence. And Vaysey believed it, too. Time and time again he had tried to catch the man, setting one trap after another, even hiring a trained assassin to see the job through. Yet Robin had evaded every trap thus far.

"It seems to me that the prince favors Chaffee over you," Robin continued nonchalantly.

"A minor detail," he shrugged. "The prince will tire of his new toy eventually."

"Doubtful; considering he's offered Chaffee your position."

He tried to appear unaffected by the comment, but he doubted he was successful. Chaffee had already dropped hints to that fact, though up until now the sheriff had merely passed them off as empty threats. Robin could have picked up on that, could have made his own assumptions, but the man spoke with such confidence that it made it seem all that more real.

"You shouldn't listen to rumors," he chided the outlaw. "Heaven knows where they even begin."

"Is it a rumor?" Robin wondered, holding up a bit of parchment just then. Now he was curious. Robin tossed it on the table between them, Vaysey pausing a moment before picking it up. Unfolding the letter he read, his expression darkening as he finished.

"He cannot do this to me!"

"It seems he already has."

"I've been nothing but loyal to the prince, and now he wants to cast me away?" He was outraged, reading the letter again, as though it somehow would change and say something different. Yet there it was, the promise of his position if Chaffee was able to produce the letter...what letter?

"Yet you have no problem doing the same to Gisborne."

Gisborne? What did this have to do with Gisborne? And more importantly, what did Hood care about the man? He met the man's gaze, a frown still on his face as he held up the parchment.

"What do you know about the letter this speaks of?" he wanted to know, would do whatever he had to find out about it. If he could find it, present it to the prince, then he could secure his position all the more. He let out a yelp as the parchment was torn from his hold from behind, the other outlaw pocketing it quickly before restringing his arrow.

"Nothing," Robin confessed, drawing his attention back, "other than that it doesn't exist."

Vaysey refused to believe it, was about to demand that Robin tell him, had half considered yelling out for his guards, but the man was still speaking.

"Still, the fact remains that Chaffee is out for your position, and is willing to do just about anything to make sure he obtains it. The question for you is, what do you intend to do about it?"

"I'll kill him, obviously."

"Right," the man seemed unimpressed. "And Nottingham is destroyed... hard to be sheriff of a place that doesn't exist, don't you agree?"

"Another minor detail," he grumbled.

Robin nodded again, tilting his head to one side. "And what if I told you I had a plan that would take care of him, all the while ensuring nothing is lost?"

He hated to admit that the outlaw often held clever solutions. He hated it even more that he was forced to ask about it. Worse even was the fact that Robin would stay quiet until prompted. So with a sigh, he played the game.

"What plan?"

"There are conditions."

"Of course," he nodded. Robin never gave anything for free, yet the good news was that what Robin usually wanted was fairly easy to give.

"Once this problem is resolved, you will not harm the peasants," he started, and Vaysey was quick in waiving him off.

"Yes, yes, " he had expected that one already. In fact he almost looked forward to it. Let Hood feed his measly peasants, get the beggars off the street and out of his way. Not to mention it would keep Hood busy as well, would keep the man's nose out of business where it didn't belong.

"What else?" he pressed when the man didn't continue right away.

"You take Gisborne back."

"What?" the question hadn't been asked by him, but rather behind him, from Hood's own man. Vaysey too was surprised by the request, but it gave him humor to know that Robin's followers did not always agree to his decisions.

"Why would I do a thing like that? He is an outlaw," he stated, amused.

"I want him out of my forest," Robin said causally. "Not only that, but what stops the prince from sending another in Chaffee's place? Wouldn't you rather have someone in that position that you can control?"

Surprisingly, as much as he hated to admit it, Hood made a very good point here. He leaned back in his chair, thinking it over. Then he nodded.

"Fine, you can go back to helping your little peasants, Gisborne can come crawling back to me, and you take care of Chaffee. One question though: How?"

"Easy; we make Chaffee look bad."

"A hard task, surely."

"Not so much," Robin argued. "My men and I will stop the taxes from going through. When Nottinghamshire fails to pay its dues, he will be held responsible."

"Why him, and not me?"

"Because we will not give it away," Robin said easily. "Not until he has gone."

"So it is a ransom?"

"Of sorts. You will write the prince, say that I am holding the money, and will release it when Chaffee leaves."

"You are aware he will just inform me to find you?"

"And how long is he willing to wait for his taxes? The prince is not a patient man; he will give in."

He wished he felt as confident as Robin sounded. There wasn't anything in his mind that led him to believe that was how things would work out. Yet he nodded, if only to appease the man. He would pretend to work with Hood, give him what he wanted, all the while trying to find out more about this so called letter the prince was anxious to find. That would secure his future right there.

"So, how do you propose to do this?"

"When do the tax shipments leave Nottingham?"

"You would like me to tell you?" The fact Hood was even suggesting he tell was ludicrous. The man held a lot of humor if he thought he was just going to do so.

"Exactly how do you expect me to stop the taxes from going through unless you do tell me?"

"How about I keep the taxes here, and you simply say that you've taken them?" He liked this idea better, for then the money would still be in his hold. But Robin was shaking his head.

"It won't work-"

"You and I would be the only ones to know this-"

"And what would Chaffee say when he discovers you are not even sending the tax money out?"

Another good point. Apparently Hood had thought of this all the way through. "A disguise, then. We will load the carts with something else-"

"The money is inspected before it even leaves," Robin reminded him. "They will know you are hiding the money, and then the next thing that happens is you are being held accountable for stealing from the prince. How well would that go over?"

"Fine; you take the money, but how am I to believe you will simply give it back when it is time?"

"The money will be given to the peasants," the man pointed out. "They will use it to buy the food and supplies they desperately need. The market will flourish, and you can take your share."

"But I would get more money if you simply gave it back-"

"How will you compensate the peasants?"

He hadn't been planning on doing that. That was Hood's business, figuring out how to help the poor. Yet he could see the man watching him, and knew the outlaw would not take that for an answer. So he offered a compromise.

"I get two-thirds of the money back; keep the rest for the peasants."

"A tenth."

"A tenth? Are you mad? That money is mine to begin with!"

"It was never yours to begin with," Robin corrected him. "People work for that money, they give their lives for it. It's blood money. You can keep the tenth, and be satisfied with it. Or I will just keep the whole lot."

"I will not tell you anything, then," he replied simply. He didn't even pay his hired men that sum, why would he an outlaw?

"Then the deal is off. Good luck keeping your position, _sheriff__,_" the outlaw mocked his title, moving to his feet. He was around the desk, almost out the door with the other when the sheriff called him back. As much as he hated to admit it, he needed Hood.

"Half," he met Robin's gaze. "We both come out equal."

It seemed fair to him, yet it was far over the original deal the man had proposed. Hood said nothing at first, simply watching him, but finally he nodded.

"Half."

"Robin, no," the other outlaw argued with him again, but Robin simply ignored him. Vaysey smiled. Finally they had an agreement.

"So, what do you need to know?"

* * *

It was nearing nightfall by the time they returned to camp. Robin and Will had spent most of their day in the castle, speaking with the sheriff. More than once they had been forced to hide when guards and serfs had come in to deliver meals, or request the sheriff's permission for one ordeal or another. But the man had been quick about sending them on so that they could get back to business.

Once satisfied that a plan was in place, and their agreement was secure, they had departed. Will still did not trust the sheriff, a point the man made shortly after leaving Nottingham. The two biggest complaints he had were the splitting of the taxes, and of course Gisborne.

The first had been easy to dispute. Robin knew they would eventually have to return a part of the tax money in order to secure the sheriff's position. The prince could easily dismiss both of the men if the taxes were to just disappear, so the outlaws could not simply keep it all. Yet, being allowed to keep half the share had been far better than he had first been hoping for. He had hoped for a third at the best, so when the offer of splitting it even arose, Robin had taken it.

Gisborne was a entirely different matter to try and explain. It was simple in his mind, but confessing the true reason was difficult as it came across as selfish. And it was selfish, but Robin simply didn't care. So he pointed out that having Gisborne in the castle as the master-at-arms was an advantage for them, because they knew how the man operated, they knew what to expect. While there was some truth in that, the real reason behind his motivations were far different.

Robin knew that when Gisborne went back to the castle, he would be out of the way, and Marian's dilemma of what to do would be solved. No longer would she be able to bring about the excuse that she could not abandon the man. Which meant she would come back to camp with him. It was a thought he liked very much, but only partially, because he knew until then, she _would_ have to leave.

He knew Gisborne suspected her already, and he did not want to endanger her by including her in any of the plans. It would be difficult enough doing that with Gisborne, and Marian would want to join, he knew, but Robin held the belief that no one could know that she could fight. Gisborne would never stop hunting her when he learned of the truth.

So his mind had been made up, determined to find her, and persuade her to leave for the time being. To go back to her father; she had been away for such a time now that surely she would agree to visit him while they sorted things out here. That had been his plan, but when camp came into view, and he saw her sitting there, he forgot about all of it. He made his way to her, pulling her into an embrace, arms wrapping around her.

"Is everything alright?" he had been surprised to find her here, assuming she would be back with Gisborne seeing the man had come back to the forest. Or at least he had assumed the man had come back to the forest. Robin had not followed to see that he did, and now wondered if something else had come about. He would have heard, surely, seeing he had spent most of his day in Nottingham, with the sheriff. But what if something else had happened?

"Yes," Marian reassured him, she glanced up at him, a smile on her face. "I just wanted to thank you for what you did, helping him, I mean. He would not listen to me-"

"And you just assumed that he would listen to me instead?"

"Well, it worked," she pointed out.

"Does he know you sent me?"

"He didn't say," Marian shrugged, "but it's not like he can accuse me of anything. All I have to do is remind him that he went to get your help when I was imprisoned."

So that was how she was doing it; blackmail. The thought made him smile, but only a little as he remembered his earlier decision. He pulled her back into a hug, glad when she did no resist. His head rested on hers as he tried to sort the words out in his mind.

"I need to speak with him," he finally started, waiting to see what her reaction was. When none was giving, he continued.

"The sheriff has agreed to help us, and I'm going to need Gisborne."

"The sheriff wants Gisborne?" There was alarm in her voice, anger on her face as she pulled back to stare up at him. "You can't be serious."

"Oh, please, Marian," he answered just as sternly. "If I was going to ransom Gisborne to the sheriff, for whatever reason, then I wouldn't have stopped him back in Nottingham, and I certainly wouldn't have told him to go back to the forest. Have some faith in me, will you?"

She was still frowning, but there was less anger there as she nodded. "Then what exactly do you intend to do? And what did you do to make the sheriff agree?"

"A mutual enemy," he said lightly. "We plan to remove Chaffee from Locksley, and send him back to the prince."

"Your men told me he could not be killed."

"Which is why we have a new plan," he went on. "But I'm going to need as many hands as I can get. That's why I need Gisborne," he clarified, still seeing the wonder on her face.

"Well, whatever it is, I can help too."

"No," he shook his head. This was where things would get complicated.

"You just said you needed all the help you can get-"

"Marian, I cannot allow it."

"Why, because I am a woman?"

"Please," he rolled his eyes, glancing over his shoulder. "Djaq is also a woman, and I don't stop her from fighting."

"So it is just me?"

"Yes," he said simply. "Gisborne cannot learn that you know how to fight. How long will it take him to discover you are the Nightwatchman? He already suspects you to be in league with us, it will not take him long to piece it all together."

"I cannot just do nothing," she argued. "And he doesn't have to know. I will just be honest with him, tell him that my father taught me how to fight-"

"And isn't it convenient, that the Nightwatchman was never caught, yet knew all the secrets of the castle?"

"Robin-"

"No," he shook his head again. There would not be an argument; there could not be an argument. "You will have to leave."

There was shock on her face, true surprise as she watched him. "You are going to send me away?"

"For a time," he was honest. He did not like this idea anymore than she probably did. But he wanted her safe. "I will speak with Gisborne, convince him to help, and in the morning you'll have to go on your way."

"What makes you think Guy will even agree to help?" she ignored the last thing said.

"The sheriff has agreed to take him back, if we are successful," Robin shrugged indifferently. "He will agree once I point this out to him."

"So he is to be one of your gang, then? You will bring him back to camp?"

"No," he said quickly. He was willing to help Gisborne, but not at the price of risking his men, and the secrets they held. Gisborne would not be on their side forever, and they could not allow the man to know of their camp, or of their stores.

"So where will he stay?"

"The cave, I suppose," he hadn't thought about that part, and honestly he didn't much care.

"Then I will stay there as well."

"Marian..."

"What difference does it make if I am sitting in a strange village doing nothing, or sitting in a cave doing nothing? At least Guy won't be on his own, and I can manage to have some sort of company."

"I would rather you leave," he pressed, frustrated with her now. She would not be happy with sitting and doing nothing. She would try and help, would most likely disobey him, show up at the last moment, and place herself in some sort of danger.

"And go where?"

"Go back to your father," he suggested, "how long has it been since you've last seen him?"

It was meant to guilt her, to bring up an old wound. Her father was her world, and she had hardly left his side while the pair were in Knighton Hall. That was before Marian had fled from Gisborne at the alter, before Edward had made it publicly known he supported the king. That was the reason why she had left the first time, in order to get him to safety. So bringing the man up again was the best way to get her to see reason, to get her to understand.

"My father is dead," her reply was bitter, the words shocking him.

"What? How?"

"He was old, Robin," she shook her head, on the verge of crying now. He placed his hands on her shoulders, drawing her close.

"I'm sorry."

"I came back here because there was nothing left for me there," she explained quietly.

"I have chanced losing you far too many times," Robin told her. "I don't want to do so again. If I could, I would keep you here, I would have you stay with me...for life."

She looked up at him, surprised. "Marriage?"

He hesitated, but nodded when he realized that it was what he was trying to say all along without even realizing it.

"A moment ago you were ready to send me away, and now you want to marry me?"

He laughed, a small smile on his face. "When I thought you had married him, there was nothing else I could think of. Every day my heart hurt just thinking of it, and even now I still cannot give enough thanks to the fact it did not happen. And I do not want it to. I do not want to lose you, Marian."

"Then don't send me away," she cautioned him.

He did not know what to say to that. His own feelings mixed too much in with what he was supposed to be doing. She would be safer if she was to go, but he wanted her to stay, and he felt even worse knowing she had nowhere to go if she was to leave. Gently he cupped her face, brushing her hair back.

"If you stay, do you promise me you will not interfere?"

"Yes," she said quickly, almost too quickly.

"And the Nightwatchman will not interfere?"

Here she hesitated, proving the point he already suspected. "Marian?"

"Alright, no Nightwatchman business."

"Good," he leaned in, kissing her briefly before pulling away. "And what about your other answer?"

"What answer?"

"About us," he said calmly, even though he felt nothing of the sort. "We were betrothed once; we were to be married..."

"Yes..." she nodded, watching him.

"It's not too late for that."

"No, it's not," she smiled up at him, sharing another kiss. He wasn't sure if that had been a yes, but it certainly hadn't it been a rejection. And for the first time since coming home, he felt right.

**TBC**


	7. Chapter 7

**Thanks to Kegel for the beta**

**It's been a busy busy week, so apologies for not getting this out sooner. Hope everyone is enjoying the story so far, and if you are, leave a quick comment. I really enjoy getting the feedback and hearing what others think :)**

* * *

**Chapter 7**

She had stayed the night; or at least part of the night, he noticed, seeing that she was gone when he woke. They had talked well into the night, falling asleep together sometime in the early hours of the morning. It was much later now, the rest of his men already up, but still he lay there for a time, simply relishing in the memory of having her near. What he would give if it could be like that...

He glanced up as Much came in, the man stopping just short of his bed, a frown on his face. "Are you going to stay like that all day?"

"I might," Robin answered. For the moment he was quite comfortable, and he had very little intention of moving.

"That is galling, really," Much shook his head. "The rest of us have been up for hours, cooking and cleaning, fletching arrows...and you've been in here sleeping."

"Go easy," Robin chided him, holding up his bandaged hand. "I am wounded, after all."

"Oh, you're going to start that now?" the man raised an eyebrow. "Wounded...maybe up here," he tapped the side of his head, causing Robin to scoff.

"You think so?"

"What I really think," Much tilted his head, indicating to the others who were just outside. "Is that if you are so wounded, then I shall fetch Djaq so you can have another draught."

"Not necessary," Robin began to protest, moving to sit as the man turned around. "Alright, alright, I'm getting up."

He tossed the blankets off, moving to his feet even as the other man left. Robin was quick in pulling on a cloak, the chill still hanging in the air. He glanced up as Djaq came in, an odd look on her face. "What?"

"Much says you are having issues...that you need something for your head?"

He actually laughed. "I am not having any issues; I am awake, and I am good."

That was, for the most part, entirely true. There was a chance, a chance that he and Marian might be engaged. True, it had not been an actual proposal, and Marian had never actually agreed, but he still held the hope in his heart, and that alone had relieved so much worry in him that by this morning he had felt better than he had in a long time.

"So no problem with your head," she clarified. "What about your hand?"

He held it up so she could see, but for the most part shrugged. "It is tolerable. But you might want to check on Much, I'm worried about him."

"Worried? Why?"

"I don't know, something seems off. You should you should give him something, just to be sure. Rather safe than sorry, right?"

To this Djaq rolled her eyes, throwing her hands up in the air. "Men."

He grinned, following her outside, greeting the others. Much was sitting by the fire, barely glancing his way as he came up.

"You are too late for breakfast," the man announced. "We have eaten it all."

"Have not," Will frowned at them. He indicated to the bit of meat that was there, as well as some bread and a bit of cheese. Robin helped himself to what was left, catching his men up on what would happen that day.

"I will speak with Gisborne, gain his alliance, and then we'll have our work cut out for us."

"There's two days until the first shipment comes through," Will pointed out, having remembered from the meeting.

"Out the way on the west road, past Clun," Robin confirmed, glad to see the man nod. They had spent hours in that room, planning routes in which they would ambush the revenues. The sheriff had each and every one planned, giving him a ledger that marked not only each route, but the exact day and rough estimation they would be going through.

"And we are just supposed to trust him?" Much wondered. "How do we know it's not just a trap?"

"That's why we are going to be changing things," Robin counted, still holding Will's gaze. The man finally understood.

"What's the plan?"

"We're going to make a trap...rather you are. Something big enough to stop a wagon, but that won't be seen from the road. I'm not going to rely on a straight up ambush like I told the sheriff."

"Clever," Allan remarked.

"By the rock wall," Will answered, clearly thinking. "It's a narrow passage, barely big enough for a cart. I can rig up something easy that will close that gap when they cross over. Go right through the wheels, stop them right there."

"And that's easy?" Much was surprised.

"It's a matter of weight," the man explained, turning back to Robin. "A person or a horse won't be enough, but a cart full of silver..."

"More than enough weight," Robin understood. "And with it being so narrow, the cart's guaranteed to hit it. How long will that take you?"

"A day," the man suggested. "Maybe a bit more to test it, make sure it works right."

"Right," Robin nodded to him, "You take Djaq and Allan, do what you need. John, Much? You come with me to the cave. We'll meet back here later tonight."

* * *

His trip to Nottingham hadn't been as successful as he had hoped for. And it just wasn't the fact he had run into Hood that had made it so sour. Yes, he was surprised to see the man, considering there had been no signs of him before, but then it had occurred to him that Robin probably had been around the entire time, laughing at his predicament. That would not surprise him; but what did surprise him was that Hood did nothing for his men during that time either. It was not like him... but then why the sudden return?

It did not matter, he mused. He could guess till the end of time and still find no reasonable answer. All he knew now was that Hood was back, and that it had been his fault why Gisborne had not reached the castle.

The idea had come to him a few nights ago. The truth was it had always been on his mind, but the notion so absurd he chose to not listen to it. There was no going back, there was no place for him by the sheriff's side. That much had been made perfectly clear when the sheriff had thrown him in the dungeons, dragging him out only to be showcased in the stockades.

Then it had happened; he could remember it well, the argument he and Marian had held. Gisborne was frustrated, beyond frustrated at the fact Marian would not come to her senses. He could drag her off, he knew, it would be easy to do so. To take her to a new village...but no, he didn't want that. He wanted her to come on her own, wanted her to want to be with him.

At first she had argued that they were tired; that they needed to regain their strength. That he could see, and could even understand, so he had agreed. He hated it, every moment of it. The cave was cold, the food meager, the ground hard and uncomfortable whenever he tried to sleep. It hadn't taken long for him to grow impatient and want to move on. But each time he brought the idea up, she would argue.

And they had both argued, up until the point where Marian had brought up the fact they couldn't just leave. That they couldn't just turn their backs on their friends, on their home. Gisborne had almost pointed out she had no home here, but was quick in stopping himself. After all, he was the reason she had no home. Instead he had just left, but the idea he had thought of so long ago had started to brew in his mind once more.

The castle was his home...the sheriff could forgive him...the man could have just been trying to teach him a lesson. It all had started making sense to him now. He could go back to the sheriff, could try and find a way to secure his protection once again. Gisborne would do whatever was needed; being out here in the forest after all had its advantages. He knew Hood's men were supplying Marian with food; how easy would it be to follow him back, to learn of their little secret camp?

And once he did learn of that, he could use that to bargain with the sheriff. It was doubtful he would be made into master-at-arms again, not so soon, he figured. But when he had first come to Nottingham, he had not been in that position either. No, that had come later, when de Fourtney had lost the support of the sheriff. Gisborne figured the same would happen to this new one, once he was back in the system, working with the sheriff.

He had explained his decision to Marian, leaving out any ideas of betraying the outlaws of course. She would not approve, but then again she did not understand politics. And once his position was secure with the sheriff, he would be able to bring her back.

He was both surprised and angry, when she called him a fool. Her argument that followed did nothing to detour him however. And he had gone off to Nottingham. Had almost made it to the castle when Hood showed up. And it was the man delaying him that caused them to be almost discovered by the guards. Even now he couldn't help but scowl at the memory. He would try again, that much was certain, when the time was right.

It would be wise, he mused, to find the outlaw's camp first. Offer that to the sheriff when he went. Maybe he would even be the one to lead an assembly of guards there, and take them all captive. Yes...that would be a fine idea.

He glanced up to where Marian sat not too far from him. They hadn't been speaking much, not since his return from Nottingham. He knew she still did not approve, but given time she would come around. After all, it would be because of him she would be allowed to go back to the castle, or any of the villages, again.

He was about to speak, to reassure her that everything would be okay when the man appeared. The same man that had been on his mind just moments ago. Gisborne moved to his feet, grabbing his bow and an arrow. Since coming to the forest he had been left without weapons, but he had been lucky enough to find the bow in the back of the cave among other supplies. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary, one that was crude and more suited for hunting than it was for any sort of fight, but it would do. Still, the smirk on Robin's face could be easily seen as Guy readied the weapon.

"Marian, get behind me," he called out to her, an action that brought a laugh from Robin.

The man himself was not armed, but the two men that followed him were. One holding an arrow ready, the other hoisting up his staff. Robin, however, simply rolled his eyes.

"Put your weapons down." His men hesitated, but did so after a brief pause. Robin nodded towards him. "You too."

"You think you can give me orders?" Gisborne laughed.

"Well, you were smart enough to listen to me back in Nottingham. Let's find out if you are smart enough to do the same here."

Robin had said all of this, a quick nod over his shoulder, and one of the men behind him hoisted up the bow again. It was a much larger bow, could easily do a lot more damage than the bow Guy held, but he reasoned he was close enough it did not matter...

"Boys, please," Marian had stepped out between them, looking from one to the other. "This is not necessary."

"Marian," he shook his head, angry at her. He had meant to protect her, not thrust her in the middle of this petty battle. Still she would not move, and with a scowl he lowered his weapon.

"Milady," Robin gave her the smallest of nods, before indicating to the man behind him. The weapon on the other side was dropped as well.

"What do you want?"

It was Marian who asked him, her voice thin. Gisborne was watching them close, the wonder on his mind. It was no secret the two had been betrothed, and for a time he had suspected Marian had even been helping his enemy. True, she had even admitted to doing so, but only under certain circumstances. What circumstances those were still remained a mystery.

Still, he couldn't help be but be a little pleased to see there was no predilection in either of their expressions. No...perhaps Marian had been honest towards him. That she helped Hood at times only because it was in her nature to help everyone. Yet another thing he would see to being stopped once they were back in position. For too long Marian had walked that fine line between sides; it was not a risk he could allow her to take any longer.

"I came to speak with him," Hood nodded towards him.

"I will not listen to any of your lies," he answered back. The last thing he needed was advice from an outlaw.

"I think you'll want to listen." Robin's answer was monotonous, suggesting nothing, and yet Gisborne couldn't help but wonder.

"Why?"

"I spoke with the sheriff earlier," the man continued on in much of the same voice. "It seems he wants to make a proposition."

He couldn't help but feel hurt by that statement. The fact that Robin Hood had been able to get into the castle, to speak with the sheriff, to earn his favor even. He wondered how that was even possible, and now he was worried...worried his earlier plan would not work.

"What proposition?" Marian asked the question he had been unable to.

Robin held her gaze for a moment before turning to meet his. "It seems we want a common goal," the man said simply. "To rid Nottinghamshire of the newest master-at-arms."

Gisborne couldn't help but cringe at the title. He knew Robin was mocking him. His fingers curled around the arrow, wanting to nock it, let it fly at the man. After all, he still blamed Hood for the situation he was in anyway.

"What does this have to do with me?" he pressed. Though he could not deny the fact that if the sheriff wanted Chaffee gone, then it improved his position all the more. It would certainly be easier to get the sheriff to listen to his bargain.

"The sheriff has agreed to reinstate you; if you help me get rid of Chaffee."

It was better than he could have suspected. A momentary joy rising in him, only to diminish shortly after. Why would the sheriff agree to such a thing? Why would he even reveal those thoughts to the outlaw? And most importantly, why would Robin even agree to help?

"You want to help me?" he asked suspiciously.

"You are going to help me," Robin corrected him. "Normally I would decline the offer, but seeing that you are here, in my forest...you can be of use."

"So what, then?" he wondered, amused. "You going to initiate me as one of your men? Give me one of your little tags?"

Robin laughed, "Hardly. But you will do what I say-"

"That's where you are wrong. I do not take orders from the likes of you."

"Then by all means, go on your way," Robin shrugged his shoulders. "But seeing as this is the sheriff's plan, I wonder what he will think when I tell him you are refusing to support him."

"I will speak to the sheriff myself," Gisborne stated bitterly. He would have to hear from the man himself that this indeed was his plan. Still, he grit his teeth as Robin laughed.

"Yes, you were doing so well last time. But the problem remains that you are an outlaw, and if you are caught before we take care of the current master-at-arms...there will be no going back for you. The sheriff cannot, and will not admit to collaborating with outlaws."

"And yet he makes plans with you? How is that any different?"

"Because I can get in the castle unseen," the man admitted, much to his frustration because Gisborne knew it was true. In his short time spent with Robin's men he had learned just a few of their tricks. And as much as he hated it, Gisborne knew the outlaws were leagues ahead of him as far as sneaking was concerned.

"If you will not help, then do not expect anything in return."

Marian stepped towards him, her voice low as she encouraged him. "At the very least hear him out, Guy. What harm could that possibly do?"

Robin had turned, had made his way to leave when Gisborne answered. "So what is it that you want me to do? Kill the man?"

The goad worked, Robin stopping in his tracks to turn back around with a scowl on his face. Gisborne merely smirked.

"Of course...that way you still get to be peasant's hero, you still get to pretend that you aren't bloodthirsty. Your plan is to have me kill him, and have me take the blame."

"No," Robin seemed unaffected by the accusation, but Gisborne was certain he already had the man figured out.

"You can't lie to me; you can't bring yourself to kill the man so you come to me."

"I could kill him," Robin said causally, "If it would do any good."

"No, you wouldn't," Gisborne was testing his luck. He had seen Robin fight before, back during the war. Knew even the man had killed some of his guards from time to time...it was not an often occurrence, but the fact was still there that Robin was more than capable of seeing it through.

"Don't worry yourself about it," Gisborne continued, "I will make sure he's dead, and then I will speak with the sheriff, and get all the glory..."

"He's the prince's man," Hood pointed out, interrupting Gisborne's spiel. "Do you really think he would be that easy to kill? That there would be no repercussions? What would the prince say when he found out you were the one to kill him off?"

He found himself quiet, taking in the new information. Of course he hadn't really thought about that part. Scowling he met Robin's gaze, knowing there was more to it than what the man was telling him. "Well?"

"Nottingham would be destroyed," came the simple answer.

"A lie-"

"Trust me," Robin cut him off. "Do you think that the sheriff would keep him around if that wasn't the case? Why go to an outlaw for help if he could rid of him as easily as he did you?"

"Then what do we do?" he ground out between his teeth. He did not like the fact Robin was mocking him yet again, but he was too far past caring to turn down the offer. There was little else he had left to work for. And, he reasoned, this could benefit him all the more. He could gain Hood's trust, learn all of his secrets, and use that to secure his position back at the sheriff's side. And Marian's...

"Tuesday morning," Robin answered, as if that was an answer at all. "You'll met me and the rest of my men on the west road, on the first main turn. Early morning."

"And do what?"

"You'll see," Robin's answer came even as the man turned to leave. Gisborne was left standing where he was, Marian off to his side. He met her gaze, wondering then what he had just agreed to. Tuesday morning...that was two days away. He had plenty of time to figure out a plan of action by then.

* * *

He didn't need to think about what he was doing; by now it was ingrained in his mind. It had taken some time to find what he had been looking for, but once accomplished, he set to work on smoothing the wood, shaping it how he needed. The knife ran along the branch, quick strokes that slowly peeled the bark, and trimmed off the knots that were there.

Near him, Djaq was busy with her own branch, doing the same as he was. She was slower than he was, pausing every so often to look up at him before returning her concentration back to her task. It made him smile, wondering if she was watching in order to copy what he was doing, or if there was something else behind it.

"Do you think it will work?"

Without hesitation he nodded. They had traveled the road earlier that morning, scoping the lay of the land. Most of the attention had been paid to where the rock wall was, and Will had made notes in his mind on the gap, on the distance they were working with. Once that had been done, Will had sent Allan to Clun to gather rope, while he and Djaq had turned to search for the rest of the material they would need.

"It should, with the right amount of pressure," he explained.

"I wasn't asking about the trap," she glanced back up at him. "I meant about Robin's plan. Do you think Gisborne will help?"

He said nothing to this, shrugging instead. He did not like the idea that Robin was including the man at all. He liked it even less that Robin was determined to help Gisborne back into power. True, they all had worked with Gisborne for a short time, but that had been when there was no other choice. Now Robin seemed to be going out of his way to not only help him, but make sure the man benefited from it as well.

Then there was the matter of Robin's plan. Of taking all the tax money. Will felt as though it was a smart idea, that it would possibly work, but he wondered if he was only being hopeful. Who knew how the prince would react? Or what the man would do? They might be going through all this trouble only to fall short in the end. And Will was afraid of what would happen should Chaffee move into the position of sheriff.

It wasn't as though he didn't trust Robin; he did, far more than he could ever explain. He owed Robin his life, more times than he could ever count. But that did not mean that the man was incapable of failing. More than once his plans had not worked out, resulting in unwanted consequences. But Robin was someone who set his mind to something once it was decided. He was a difficult man to convince otherwise.

Then there was the question of the sheriff. Will had been there while Robin and Vaysey discussed the taxes. Part of it was incredulous to listen to; Robin never spoke much about politics in the forest, for there was little need, and Will himself had never been in a situation that required it. Yet watching Robin gave him a new insight to the man, and a different kind of respect for him. It had led him to wonder what would have happened had Robin not turned against the law upon his return him.

Of course it was likely that he wouldn't be here to see it, if that was the case. Will had been sentenced to hang, along with brother, Luke, and Giddens, a friend of his. Allan had been there too, had carried the same sentence due to his own folly rather than any real involvement. And had Robin not done anything, they would all be dead.

Even now he could remember the fear as rope was placed about his neck, the sound of the drums in his ears, the pounding of his heart...and then the cry that stopped everything for a brief moment. Will hadn't known at that time the supposed priest that spoke on their behalf had been a ruse of Robin's.

If that had worked, Will suspected he and Luke would have gone to Kirkless for a time. At least until their father came for them, and then he probably would have gone to Scarborough to stay with their aunt. He wouldn't have stayed behind, wouldn't have gotten to know Robin like he had here. The thought made him frown, wondering briefly how different his life would be if that were the case.

He missed his father and brother. He often wondered what they were doing and how they were fairing. More than once he had almost asked Robin to write a letter for him to send their way, but had never gathered the courage to do so. He didn't want to seem like he was homesick; but it would be nice to see them for a time, or at the very least hear from them.

He would write it himself, if only he knew how. His father could read well enough, having taken contracts from the sheriff in writing before, but that knowledge hadn't been entirely passed onto him. Will knew enough to recognize letters, could even read a few words, but little more. And any letter from him would have to be written for him, and anything gotten back would have to be read for him in order to understand. That made things too open and personal.

Of course there was always Djaq. He found himself watching her, a smile on his face. She too could write, he knew. She claimed to have learned how to do so back in her homeland, from her father. But the thought of asking her to write for him was even more uncomfortable than asking Robin. No, he would not even have the courage to ask, let alone tell her what to write...

Will cursed as the knife slipped, the blade cutting into flesh. Quickly he brought his finger up, pressing it against his lips. He had been so preoccupied by his thoughts that he hadn't been paying attention. Djaq was watching him, an eyebrow raised.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah," he nodded even as she stood. With a frown he let her take his hand, "It's fine."

She said nothing, holding his hand near the cut, and without any warning, pinched the skin between her fingers.

"Hey!" he tried to pull away, but she held fast, an amused expression on her face.

"Oh, does that hurt?"

"Yes," he winced.

"Don't be a girl," she mocked him, still holding fast. A few moments later she let go, "Pressure, and bleeding stops."

It had stopped, but that didn't mean it hadn't hurt any. He let out a scowl, before turning back to his work.

"We have to get these done before Allan comes back," he reminded her, wanting to get back on task. There was still a lot that had to be done, and no doubt the others would be waiting for them. Mildly he wondered how things had gone on their end. He picked the knife back up, more careful this time as he worked. Yet he couldn't help but glance back up at her, a smile on his face.

He did miss his family; but he was glad to be here with her.

**TBC**


	8. Chapter 8

**Many thanks once again to Kegel for being an awesome beta. Here we are onto the next chapter.**

**If you are reading, leave a review! Let me know what you think :)**

* * *

**Chapter 8**

Tuesday morning found them down along the west road, each grouped in twos and hidden among the foliage. Only Robin was by himself, crouching further up the hill as he surveyed the area before them. It was still early, the sun just beginning to rise, slowly melting the frost that had taken the land during the night. The taxes, according the sheriff, would pass through before mid-morning and Robin wanted everything to be ready.

They were just before the rock wall where Will had devised his trap, giving them a perfect advantage. From here, not only could they see the approaching cart, but Robin figured that most of the guards would be stuck on the other side when the trap was sprung. They would have to travel through, and loop back around before they could be of any assistance. And by then, Robin planned to be long gone.

How many guards there would be in total, he wasn't sure. He hoped the sheriff's cooperation would extend far enough that he would call off unnecessary guards, but Robin was well enough aware that he could not call them all off unless he wanted to draw unwanted attention.

But the fact remained that this needed to work if they were to see any forward progress. He had already briefed his men, as well as Gisborne, on what was to happen. They would wait until the cart was stuck, attempt to drive the guards off and subdue those that stood their ground, and then take the cart. The money they collected would be housed in one of their stores until the deal was seen through. Robin could only hope things would work out that well.

Out from his right he could see one group coming his way. Djaq and Will moved with a quick and steady pace, reaching his side in just a few minutes. Until now, they had been further up the road, acting as lookouts. With a simple glance, Will nodded his head, answering the unasked question.

"How far?"

"Just around the bend," Will responded. "We should start to see them in about ten minutes."

"And how many guards?"

"Half a dozen," it was Djaq that answered this time. "Four in front, two behind. All on horseback."

Add in the driver and that made seven, potentially eight if there was another riding with the cart. Not too bad of odds, he mused. They were seven strong themselves now that Gisborne was here. Rather six, Robin corrected himself, when he took everything in consideration.

This was a fight he would have to hang back from. That promise he had made to Djaq, and then again to Will, the pair of them both pointing out that there was nothing much he could do given his hand. The simple reminder from Djaq about the ill favors he would do to himself if he wasn't careful had been enough to make him agree, but Robin already knew he would break that promise if things did not go to plan. There would be Hell to pay if his men were in danger and he did nothing to help.

Whatever he had to pay as a result, he would do so, if it meant keeping his men safe. Robin could only hope that it did not come to that. Yet in ten minutes, he figured, they would find out.

"Right, you two stay hidden, and don't let yourselves be seen until after they've fallen in the trap. I don't want them to suspect anything."

Will nodded, but it seemed as though Djaq wasn't paying attention. Instead she was watching something behind him, causing Robin to turn from where he crouched. He saw nothing, just the occasional drifting of leaves as the wind blew.

"You have company," Djaq said quietly.

It took Robin several more moments before he saw what she was referring to. The simple movement of something that was not being stirred by the wind.

"Go and get ready," Robin instructed the both of them. "I will deal with this."

He didn't wait for an answer, didn't need too. The others would listen, especially considering the source of their unexpected company. Robin made the climb up the hill, disappearing into the shadows opposite to where he had first seen the movement. Then, with slow, quiet steps, he made his way back around.

The lone figure was pressed against a tree, wearing a soft blue cape with the hood pulled up. She was leaning over, peering around the tree, oblivious to the fact he had come up behind her.

"Marian."

She jumped at the sound of his voice, turning to face him quickly. A moment later, she was cursing him.

"Don't you ever do that to me again," she pressed a hand against her chest.

"What are you doing here?" He ignored the previous demand. "You gave me your word."

"I'm not going to interfere," she defended her actions.

Robin placed a hand on the tree, leaning so that he was close to her. "And what exactly were you planning on doing?"

"I'm just going to watch," she stated, trying to present an air of innocence on her face.

"And so conveniently see a moment in which you could be of service?"

"Is there a problem with that?"

"You promised me," he reminded her once again.

"I can fight," she seemed to not hear him.

"Marian."

"This plan of yours to put Chaffee out of power is risky; you put far too much trust in the sheriff and there are only seven of you to see it through," she went on.

"And you will make all the difference?"

"I want to help," she insisted.

Robin shook his head. He could not involve her, not while Gisborne was around. Doing so would tip off the man that they were far closer than he suspected. That not only did they have feelings for one another, but that Robin knew she could fight, a trait that no ordinary lady should know. It was a risk he was not willing to take.

"Go back to the cave."

"Is that what you are going to say when I come to the camp?" she wondered.

"Yes," Robin answered truthfully. "Whenever the sheriff and Gisborne are involved."

"So you want me be a part of your gang and you intend on locking me away?" she asked sourly.

He let out a sigh. "Until I figure out what we are to do, I need you stay low," he explained. "That includes staying out of our business."

"This is my business as much as it is yours," she frowned. "Do you even realize what would happen to this shire should Nottingham be destroyed?"

"Yes," Robin answered bitterly. It was a scenario he had thought over in his head many times. "But I won't let that happen."

"You think that you can stop it?"

"I won't stand and do nothing-"

"You won't be able to protect them-"

"I care more about protecting you," he cut her off. She fell silent, looking away from him. Her gaze was still hard, and he knew that she was angry. With a sigh he reached up, running a hand along her cheek. Marian pulled away, folding her arms over her chest.

"I can take care of myself."

From behind him he heard one of his men whistle, signaling that the cart was on its way. He had to go, but he hated leaving her like this.

"We will talk about this later," he told her, waiting for her to respond. She said nothing, refusing to even look his way. "Go back to the cave, please?"

He could not force her, but Robin had a sinking feeling that if she was to stay, she would go against his wishes. It simply was too much temptation. He was about to ask again, to try and find some sort of compromise, but his men called for him again. He really had to go.

"Just promise me you'll stay out of it."

He didn't wait for her answer; couldn't wait. Already too much time had passed. Quickly he slipped out from behind the tree, staying low to the ground as he made his way down the hill. They would have one chance at this; they had to get it right.

* * *

He lay in the undergrowth, flat on his belly and propped up by his elbows. The ground was wet, with bits of branches and rocks digging up into his skin. The sun was beginning to warm everything, turning the frost into dew, causing droplets to form on the end of the leaves before falling to the ground. Hastily he wiped his face with a hand; it almost felt like it was raining.

Already they had been here for hours. Well, that was probably an exaggeration, most likely it had only been a handful of minutes, but it felt like hours. He was already sore from laying this way, and growing more and more impatient the longer they waited. How long were they supposed to stay like this?

Next to him, one of Hood's men, Allan he believed, lay as well, seemingly far more content to wallow in the dirt and mud. Gisborne let out a grunt, reaching under his stomach where something was starting to painfully dig into his skin. Yet another rock; he threw it away with a huff, earning a glare from the other man.

"What?"

"You're gonna give us away," Allan warned him.

"It's a rock," Gisborne bothered to point out. It wasn't like he was jumping out in the middle of the road waving his arms about.

"And rocks just don't go flying around on their own."

He let out a sigh. The man had a point, but he wouldn't admit that. Instead he eased his weight from one arm to the other, trying to get comfortable. It wasn't easy.

"You do this often?" He asked the other man. He was curious, and envious to the fact Allan was not even the slightest bit unnerved.

"Pretty much, yeah," came the answer. "If you want to do an ambush the right way, you have to hide. It gets easier as you go along. You'll get used to it."

"Doubtful," he frowned. Hiding in the bushes, sneaking through sewers...no, that was not for him.

"It does," Allan insisted. "Once you've done it a few times it's like nothing. Wait until you have to cover yourself in mud, or worse."

"Worse?"

"Doesn't smell pleasant," he said, making a face. "But if you need to hide, its the best chance you have. You smell bad enough and no one wants to come near you. That's the best way to hide."

Gisborne knew that much was true. He had been with the outlaws through the sewers once before, the memory quite unpleasant. That was one thing he was never going to do again.

"And you always coat yourself in muck?"

"No," Allan shook his head. "There's plenty of other ways. Hide in food barrels, dress up as beggars, or guards. That one's always the easiest."

"Really?" Gisborne was intrigued now. It was starting to make sense, the fact that Hood and his men were able to travel about and learn all of their secrets.

The sheriff had long suspected a leak in the castle, that there was a spy. The man had even gone far enough to blame Marian. But now Gisborne wondered if the main reason Hood found out about their plans was because they were standing right under their noses, hidden in plain sight. Mentally Gisborne made a note in the back of his mind to keep a tighter reign on his guards in the future.

"Course it is," Allan shrugged his shoulders, "want to look like you belong? Be a guard, no one even thinks of looking twice. You can get anywhere as long as you have a uniform."

Yet another note he made. Find a way to make the uniforms more revealing; there would be no chance for Hood's men to hide if they could not conceal their faces. Gisborne smiled to himself; it was almost too easy.

Allan hardly noticed; in fact the man was watching over his shoulder. Gisborne turned to watch as well as two others spoke with Robin a bit further up.

"It won't be much longer now."

"How do you know that?" They could hear nothing of what was being said, not from this distance. Couldn't even see their expressions; how did Allan know what was going to happen?

"Not being funny, but they wouldn't be back unless they had seen the cart. And if something's changed, we'd know already."

Gisborne doubted that; Hood seemed more like the type to keep his plans to himself. He frowned, watching as Robin moved to his feet, disappearing up the hill. "Where's he going?"

"Who knows," Allan shook his head. "Not like he tells us everything." That confirmed Gisborne's earlier thought. He turned back around, watching the road, waiting for something to happen.

"Tell me again how this is supposed to happen?"

Robin had not gone into much detail, not with him at least. His only order was to pair up in groups, with a clichéd 'you know what to do'. When he had first asked Allan what that meant, the man had replied with 'we wait'. He was getting tired of waiting.

It had taken a lot of convincing on his part to go through with this. True, Marian had helped persuade him. She seemed almost excited by the idea he might get his position back. It gave him a little bit of hope, hope that she would come back with him to the castle. Why else would she want for this to happen? Marian wanted her old life back, wanted to stay in Nottingham...with him back at the sheriff's side he could help see that happen. A life with him.

So he had agreed; still he held the plan in the back of his mind. Find Hood's camp, learn what secrets he could, and reveal this to the sheriff when the timing was right. He would gain his position back, take care of Hood and his men, and take Marian as his wife. It all seemed too perfect...

"Cart gets stuck, we take out the guards, and take the money; easy really."

"Foolish," he shook his head. "You think they use just any guards to keep the taxes safe? They won't be that easy to kill."

"Eh, we don't really do the whole 'killing' thing. Not unless we have to."

"Right...and what do you do? Ask them to go away nicely?"

"A good sound blow to the head takes care of that," Allan shrugged. "Tie them up, gag them sometimes. Someone finds them later on, lets them go. There it is now," he dropped his voice into a whisper, nodding to the road.

The cart was coming; four guards leading the way. The horses cantered along, the cart being pulled easily behind. Gisborne reached for his sword, pulling it free. Hood, at the very least, had bothered to arm him with a proper weapon. Who the sword belonged to, or where it had even come from would remain a mystery to him. Half of the stuff Hood had was stolen to begin with, and it was very possible that this blade was loosely his anyways. His or one of his guards...

"Wait," Allan hissed at him as he began to move. The man even went as far as to grab his wrist. "Too early."

Too early? If they waited any longer the cart would be gone. He pulled free from Allan, launching himself to his feet, and ran out of hiding. He would take care of this; let Hood and his men cower in the bushes.

Stumbling down the hill, Gisborne held his sword up, calling to the men. The guards at the front slowed their horses, turning them around as they drew their own blades. The cart rambled on by, veering off to one side and down the hill. There were two more guards following at the rear, and they too turned to join their comrades.

Gisborne found himself slowing, his early ambition suddenly dwindling. Four had been a bit to take on, but now that there were six he was suddenly unsure. He found himself taking a step back as the men approached, the head guard calling for his surrender. Where in the blazes were Hood's men?

No sooner than he thought of it, the arrow struck. It found flesh, burying itself in the arm of the first guard. The motion was enough to topple him, the man dropping his sword as he grasped wildly at the reigns. The horse reared, lashing out with front hooves, hooves that nearly caught him.

Gisborne was quick in stepping around, thrusting his sword forward. The blade ran deep into the fallen man's throat, a look of surprise on his face as blood began to flow. It took only a moment, and now there was one less guard. Then everything was chaotic.

* * *

He should have known better; Gisborne was not one of his men, was not a part of their gang. He would not follow the same rules, the same stipulations. Still he couldn't help the anger building up inside of him when the man broke rank early. How foolish could he be?

Letting out a curse, Robin moved, already knowing that he was going to break the promise to his men. Yet at the rate Gisborne was going, he was going to get himself killed. Not to mention the fact that this mission could already be lost; and it was not one they could afford to lose.

Gisborne was now at the bottom of the hill, stumbling into the road, slowly being surrounded by the six guards. The leader had almost reached him when Will let the first arrow fly. Two more followed, sending the horses into a panic. Robin barely dodged out of the way of one, ducking as a sword came his way.

The rest of his men were in the fray now, favoring swords in the close contact. Robin had nothing but a dagger, having not been properly armed before the attack started. He cursed his own stupidity, even as he moved to intercept a fleeing horse. The animal reared, throwing its rider in the process. Robin was quick in grabbing the reigns, trying to calm the beast, moving at the same time.

He grabbed the pommel, hoisting himself up onto the horses' back. The animal was still dancing nervously under him even as Robin worked to steady it. A quick glance up let him know there was not much time. The cart had veered off the path, had gone into the woods away from the carefully placed trap.

With a click of his tongue he urged the horse forward, quickly encouraging it into a run, working to close the gap between him and the retreating cart. Already it had a fair head start, but having been forced off the road and into the rough terrain of the forest was slowing it considerably. At this rate, he would reach it in no time.

Suddenly, an arrow flew by, just above his head. Robin pulled on the reigns, drawing the horse to one side. He had been correct in his earlier assumption. There was a guard riding with the cart. And he was stringing another arrow. Robin ducked down behind the creature's neck as it flew overhead. He had assumed the guard would be armed, but not with a bow and arrow. This would complicate things; Robin knew that he had to catch them soon; even the lousiest of marksmen could not miss forever.

Another arrow was fired, this time lower than the previous two. Much lower, Robin realizing that fact far too late. The arrow buried itself deep into the chest of the horse, the animal screaming as it faltered. Robin's grip tightened on the reigns as the horse stumbled, falling down to one side. He let out a gasp as the bulk of the weight came to rest on one of his legs, forcing it into the ground below.

Robin let go of the reigns, bracing his hands against the flank of the horse, trying to scramble free. There was no such luck; the weight of the horse kept him pinned, earning a curse from him. He had to get free, had to stop the cart somehow...

"Robin!" he heard Will yell his name.

He glanced up in time to see the man approaching. The guard that had been firing at him had left the cart, and was quickly approaching. Robin swore again, renewing his efforts in pulling himself free. He caught a flash of light out of the corner of his eye, the sun glinting off the sword that had been drawn.

He pulled out of the way, just barely, as the blade came down. The man wasted no time in pulling it back, following with yet another strike. How he was able to dodge it the second time Robin could not say. Yet he was close enough now, and Robin reached out, wrapping both hands around one of the guard's legs, yanking hard. The man fell, hitting the ground near him, Robin trying to scramble after the blade.

He was kicked twice, his ears ringing, the distinctive taste of blood lingering in his mouth. It left him dazed, his head swimming. The distraction was enough, the man climbing back to his feet, grabbing the blade. Once again it was raised, Robin doing what he could to gather his senses to try and dodge it once more. But the blow never came, an arrow burying itself into the man's chest instead. With a grunt he fell, collapsing on the ground near him. A moment later there was a hand on his shoulder.

"You alright?" Will asked, his breath hard and heavy from the run. Robin gave him a quick nod, but already his thoughts were in a new direction.

"The cart, stop the cart."

Will didn't hesitate, pushing himself to his feet and running after where the cart had gone. Robin watched until the man was out of his line of sight, before turning his focus back on his current predicament. Once again he braced himself, trying to pull himself free. Then, with a resigned sigh, he dropped his head to the ground below. He wasn't going anywhere, not without some sort of help.

He glanced back the way he had come, watching as his men cleared off the rest of the guards. There had been deaths, unavoidable ones. None of it had been on their side, Robin realized, counting all his men. One of the guards had been lucky to escape, he noted, watching as the man spurred his horse away. No doubt going back to relay the news; the thought made Robin smile. Let him bring news of the failure to the sheriff, and to Chaffee. If it was indeed failure.

There was still no sign of Will, or of the cart. Maybe it was foolish to try and take the money. They had taken taxes before, but that had been through luck. It had already been stolen by thieves, and Robin and his men had simply taken the liberty of stealing it back. This operation here, of ambushing the revenue, was completely different.

"Robin?"

He turned at the sound of her voice, a frown on his face. "What are you doing here?"

"Are you alright?" Marian ignored him, dropping to her knees near his side.

"Peachy," he answered sarcastically, bracing himself up with his elbows. "You can't be here."

"Like I'm going to just stand here and watch?" she shook her head, placing her hands against the dead animal.

"If Gisborne sees you-"

"Gisborne has his own agenda," she remarked sourly, causing Robin to turn back to where his men were. They were locked in a heated argument with the man at the moment, the thought amusing him somewhat. He had half a mind to give Gisborne a sound lecture, but at this rate he wouldn't need to. His men were doing a fine enough job on their own.

"Are you going to help me or not?" Marian caught his attention once more.

With a sigh he sat up, bracing himself as well. Slowly, ever so slowly, he was able to pull himself free. He couldn't help but let out a breath, mostly of relief once it was done. They sat on the ground, Robin massaging his leg, wincing as he did so. Marian cupped his face, wiping away the blood was lingering there, but Robin caught her hand.

"You need to go, now." he urged her. Gisborne was still distracted; it was the perfect time to slip away. She seemed to hesitate, as if she was to argue, but he pressed her once again. "Go."

"I will come see you later," she whispered, giving him a quick kiss. It left him with a smile, even as she disappeared into the trees. He would look forward to seeing her later. Then he let out a groan, letting himself fall back to the ground as he closed his eyes. His leg was still on fire, his head hurt, not to mention his hand. He was in no shape to be doing this sort of thing.

Robin turned at the sound of Much calling his name, watching as he and the others ran towards him. Again Much screamed his name as he drew closer, causing him to wince.

"You should yell louder, I didn't hear you the first time."

"Are you hurt?" Much ignored him, dropping to his knees where he lay.

"No," Robin answered sarcastically, "I just felt like it was a perfect time for a nap."

"You," the man shook his head, "I thought you were..."

"Can you walk?" Djaq asked, cutting him off.

Robin found himself nodding. "It's not broken."

"Good," Much let out a sigh of relief, "you already have enough broken things."

"Tell me about it," he muttered dryly. He met Allan's gaze then, "Go find Will, I sent him after the cart."

The man nodded, moving to follow the path the cart had taken. Robin's gaze fell next to Gisborne, who had stood quiet this entire time. "We'll talk about this later."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"You disobeyed me."

"I'm not one of your men you can order around," Gisborne defended himself.

"If you are going to be here, then you must work with us," Robin said fiercely, wincing as Much wrapped his hands around his chest, helping him to stand. He tested the weight on his leg carefully, still holding onto the man. Once satisfied he could stand on his own, he continued.

"Your actions could have gotten all of us killed; and because of you we had to kill most of the guards."

"Consider it a favor," the man replied smugly. "They wouldn't have hesitated to kill you. They were lousy guards anyway."

"You are revolting," Much frowned, still holding onto Robin's arm.

"They had families," Robin stressed, not even knowing if that was true or not. It didn't matter, he suspected. What mattered was the fact that Gisborne was too overly eager to kill. He was about to argue further, but a whistle caught his attention.

"That would be Allan," Djaq pointed out.

"Let's go see if we were lucky enough to get the money."

Robin turned, taking a few steps, slowed by his limp. Much was by his side to offer support, support that Robin took gratefully. He could only hope that they had been successful; after all he had been through, it would be the silver lining to the day.

**TBC**


	9. Chapter 9

**Sorry for the late update, things got a bit crazy. Here's the next update, and thanks to kegel for the beta. Thanks to all of my readers who are leaving reviews! I love seeing them :)**

* * *

**Chapter 9**

She had wanted to come earlier, but until now hadn't been able to. For a time she had ignored Robin's advice, had followed him from the woods, keeping her distance so she would not be seen. He was her main worry, noting with unease the way he limped. She had been around horses most her life, and knew what sort of damage that could cause. But he seemed to be doing fine, and it came to a point where she finally had to go because Robin was sending Gisborne away. By that time they had secured the cart, and there was no doubt in her mind they were getting ready to take the money to one of their stores.

So she had ran, making it back to the cave only minutes before Gisborne arrived, escorted by John to ensure that he did return. She gave the man an uneasy smile, turning her focus on Gisborne, asking the questions she knew he would expect. Gisborne of course had elaborated on everything, had made it seem like the success had all been his. He also made a point of lying when she asked if anyone had gotten hurt. If it was a direct lie, or the fact he was trying to be kind to her, she couldn't say.

The talk about it then had stopped, turning to more mundane topics as they shared a meal, and shortly after Gisborne had turned in for the night. By now the sun was fading, the days shorter now that summer was gone, and Marian pulled her hood up over her head as she waited. She gave it another few minutes, making sure all was quiet, before she headed off.

She did not take a torch with her, but Marian knew the way well enough. And it gave her cause to smile when she could see the campfire in the distance. Several of the men turned her way when she first approached, but calmed immediately when they saw it was just her. From here she could see they were all sitting out there...all except for one.

"Robin's sleeping," Will explained as she came up. He had helped her up the last bit of the hill, offering her some food, an invitation she turned down. She was still full from earlier.

That disappointed her; she had not thought he would be sleeping so early. Then it gave her cause for worry. "Is he alright?"

"Djaq gave him a draught for the pain; those knock him out pretty good."

That made sense, she figured, but she still was disheartened to come all this way and not be able to see him. She stood there, let out a sigh, trying to figure out what to do. She could not just stay and wait, for there was no telling how long he would sleep and Gisborne would notice her missing before long.

"He was just resting when I was last in there," Allan offered just then, helping to make her mind up. "You might catch him still awake."

She nodded, moving up the rest of the hill, and into the camp. It was darker in here than it was outside, not having the luxury of the fire to light her way. But once again she did not necessarily have to see to find her way. Her steps were careful and quiet, Marian easing herself down next to his bed as she reached out.

He shifted under her touch, letting out a sigh as she kissed his forehead. His voice was soft, his words somewhat slurred. "You're late."

"I said I would come later, and it is later," she pointed out, but couldn't help but smile. "Though I must say that I'm a little disappointed you're already in bed."

"Not my fault," he defended, "I didn't want to take anything, but Djaq insisted."

"Does it hurt?" she wondered, referring to his leg. He held up his hand instead, and she caught it between her own, feeling the bandages that were there. They were new, she could tell, not the same one from before that had been frayed. It gave her enough of an indicator to what might have happened in her absence. She brought his fingers up, pressing them against her lips.

Robin had not elaborated to what had happened. She had not pressed either, part of her did not want to know the answer to that. He had only explained it was necessary if he wanted to be able to shoot his bow again. That was something important to him, she knew. Her only hope was that he was making the right decision. She did not want to see him further hurt in the end.

"Does Gisborne know?"

She shook her head, voicing her thought as well when she realized Robin couldn't see her. "If he does, he has not said anything that indicates so. In fact, the way he was telling it, you would have thought he did everything."

"Of course," Robin replied dryly. "And yet you try and make him seem like he has such a noble heart."

"He has his faults," she frowned, remembering what had taken place earlier that day, "but he's not all that bad."

"Right."

"Let's not fight about this," she sighed. She had not come all this way to talk about Gisborne. "I'm just glad you are alright."

He let out a grunt, something that was barely an acknowledgment. She held his hand still, massaging it carefully as she sat there, lost in her thoughts. Marian knew they had been successful in the plan so far, but she wondered for how much longer it would have to go before they saw results.

"When does the next shipment come through?"

"Next week," Robin answered softly. "I'll go to Nottingham on Monday, speak with the sheriff to make sure nothing has changed."

"They'll know you took the money," she pointed.

"Yes," Robin agreed. "No doubt they'll be more careful next time. I will try to convince the sheriff to keep the guards pulled off."

"You think he will?"

"No."

She had suspected as much. It gave her cause to worry; even now she could recall watching when Robin became trapped, on how he had almost been pierced by the blade. The thought caused her to cringe, her hold tightening.

"Easy," Robin growled at her, pulling his hand out of her grasp. She winced, apologizing quickly. She hadn't meant to do that.

"I worry about you, Robin," she told him quietly, "I don't think this will work."

"It will," he answered quietly.

"Look at the trouble you got yourself in today. It will be worse next time, you said so yourself. They will be more careful; and what happens to you if you are caught? Do you realize the danger you are putting yourself in?"

His only response was a soft grunt, earning a frown from her.

"Are you even listening to me?"

"Yeah," came the answer after a brief moment. She raised an eyebrow.

"Gisborne and I got into a fight earlier today."

"Oh?"

"Yes, he made me mad, so I killed him."

"That's nice," Robin replied quietly, confirming her earlier suspicion. He shifted, his voice more clear just then. "What?!"

"You're not even paying attention."

"I am too...maybe I'm not," he confessed, letting out a sigh. "It's just hard to think right now."

Marian shook her head, unable to keep from smiling. "Get some sleep; we'll talk later."

"You're leaving?"

"Well, you aren't the best of company at the current moment," she pointed out. Plus she knew the rest would do him well.

"You can still stay," he offered.

"And do what?" she wondered. "Watch you drool while you sleep?"

"I do not drool."

"Yes you do." She laughed when he scoffed, "and it's very cute," she added in. She leaned over, giving him a quick kiss. "I will see you later."

"Tomorrow?" he asked hopefully, causing her to laugh.

"If I can get away," came her promise. They shared one more kiss before she pulled away. Marian would do what she could to come back here again the next night, but she could not keep her hopes up for that. Still, she had the suspicion that if she did not make it here, then Robin would find a way to visit her at the cave. And she liked that idea very much.

* * *

He had been surprised to hear about the first shipment. Well, maybe not so surprised as he was amused. Amused by the fact that Hood had been successful. Yet, the more he thought about it, the more he realized that he had never suspected for Hood to fail in the first place. As infuriating as it was, Vaysey knew he could rely on the man, however twisted that notion was.

Chaffee had come to see him shortly after. It had gone as anticipated, the man clearly unhappy with the latest developments. Vaysey had pretended to be concerned, had expressed his determination of catching the man, had made a show of dispatching guards to the forest. All of which had come back empty-handed, if they had come back at all.

Two more weeks had come and gone, and all with the same result. Hood would find his way into the castle sometime during the night, inquire about the taxes, attempt to negotiate with him in pulling off the guards. He was never successful in that matter; Vaysey would not pull off his men and Chaffee only insisted on sending more. In the end it did not matter. Hood still managed to take the money.

And that was why, three weeks since he had made the deal with Hood, that he found himself in the company of Chaffee early in the morning. Very early; the sun was just making its way through the sky, bringing the morning light to Nottingham. Vaysey had not been happy to wake up so early, but he dressed as decently as he saw fit and made his way to the Great Hall.

"Have you heard?" Chaffee wondered as he entered.

"What would that be?" he feigned innocence, although he already knew what the man was referring to. They had sent the last shipment out late last evening. The very fact he was here now, demanding his company, already told Vaysey what he needed to know.

"Tell me how it can be, zat whenever we send ze money out, it never makes it past ze forest? You did change ze hour...and ze route, yes?"

"Of course," he agreed; what he failed to mention was the fact that he and Hood had planned out all the routes a few weeks prior.

"So, how did he find it?"

"Hood has spies everywhere, I am sure you know," Vaysey said casually, seating himself down at the table. There was a plate before him, and he frowned, looking up at the other man.

"Compliments of ze chef," Chaffee explained, "My mother, she taught me it is impolite to wake someone at zis hour unless you had compensation."

"Charming," the sheriff rolled his eyes. This was the man's main concern? He picked at a bit of the food, before pushing the plate away. He would have a real breakfast as soon as this matter was over. "So, the outlaw strikes again. How alarming...a clue? No."

"Who are his spies?"

"If I knew, they would be all taken care of already."

"We need to discover who zey are."

"And what is your plan?" Vaysey wondered, a slight grin on his face. "Arrest everyone in all the villages? The dungeons would be a little full; and how would get any taxes for the prince then? Hmm?"

"It is no laughing matter," Chaffee warned him, finishing his own meal. "Ze prince has already expressed his distress in zis matter. Ze outlaw must be stopped, and ze money must be found."

"Then by all means, go on and find it," he offered, leaning back in his chair.

"Zat task was given to you," Chaffee reminded him grimly. "Ze prince will not be happy to hear about your failure."

"Actually...I do believe that it was your responsibility to ensure taxes were being paid. Seems like we are both in trouble, wouldn't you agree?"

"Zat trouble will be yours, if you do not get zings under control," Chaffee corrected him, even as the man stood, "Unless I am to start suspecting zat ze reason you cannot catch him is because you are helping him?"

"Hood?" Vaysey let out a laugh. "I would kill him if I had the chance. When I catch him...I do promise quite the prettiest of deaths," he held up a finger, a smile on his face.

True, he was helping Hood, but Chaffee could never know that. And despite the fact he was helping Hood at the current moment did not mean he wouldn't kill the man when the timing was right.

"No," Chaffee shook his head just then. "When you catch him, you will bring him to me."

Of course, the letter; Vaysey could only smile. That was what the man was after; it had nothing to do with Hood personally, just something he was believed to carry. Even now Vaysey had learned nothing more about the letter. Robin was adamant it did not exist, but then again the man was likely to say that simply because he would not allow any of his enemies to the knowledge it held.

"Of course," he agreed quietly, watching as the man left. That was one thing he would never do of course. Chaffee could never find that letter...

"Don't you know it's rude to talk about people behind their backs?"

"Hood?!" he turned quickly, scowling as the man came out of the shadows. They were alone now, the last of the guards having just left, but still he checked the door. If the guards had lingered...he shook his head.

"That's why you shouldn't eavesdrop," he warned the other. "You might not like what you hear."

The man held his hands up, shrugging his shoulders as he sauntered into the middle of the room. He took a seat across from him, reaching over to the previously discarded plate and picking up some of the food that was left there.

"How else am I supposed to find out what others think of me?" Robin wondered in between bites. He held out something just then. "This is for you, by the way."

The sheriff reached over, grabbing the parchment from him. He unrolled it, skimming over the words. Across from him Robin coughed, catching his attention. There was a frown on his face.

"What is this stuff?"

"One of Chaffee's interpretations of food," he explained mildly. "He called it compensation for waking me so early, no doubt I have you to thank for that."

"Business," Robin shrugged it off, "You aren't concerned about poison at all?"

"Not unless you keel over first," he stated, turning back to the note. It was a demand; one that stated Chaffee be removed, or that the taxes would not be returned.

"What good does this do me?"

"Chaffee will discover one of those upon his return to Locksley," Robin told him. "You tell him that you also found the same evidence in your room, and inform him that a letter has already been sent to the prince with the same demand."

"You haven't sent any letter," Vaysey was testing him. He doubted Robin had that sort of connection, but then again Hood was always surprising him.

"He won't know that," Robin said calmly. "But you will send a letter; because you can get it to the prince."

The man was holding up another bit of parchment, and he handed it over without hesitation. Vaysey almost opened it, but stopped upon seeing Robin's face. With a sigh he slipped it into a pocket; he would simply read it later. Hood would never know, and he wanted to see exactly what the man was writing to the prince about.

"Any changes with the next shipment?"

"More guards," he shrugged, completely uninterested. One of two things would happen; either Hood would be caught, or the guards would be killed. It worked in his favor either way, for the guards were Chaffee's. The more men of his that were disposed of, the easier things were for the sheriff.

"Call them off," Hood pressed shortly. Vaysey shook his head.

"A clue? Don't want any suspicions raised. Though I must say you are being quite ruthless...killing innocent guards."

"You can thank Gisborne for that."

So, it was as he first had suspected. Hood had not been responsible. A part of him always had believed so, but now he knew for sure. And the fact that Gisborne had actually agreed to help and go along with this idea only further proved that Gisborne wanted back in the castle. He was a desperate man. And a desperate man was easy to control.

"Well then," he moved to his feet, and heading for the door. "I would say that I'm looking forward to our next meeting, but that would be a lie. I'm certain you can find your own way out."

"Send the letter," Hood reminded him, grabbing a few pieces of the fruit off the discarded plate even as Vaysey turned.

It caused him to frown, not liking the fact he was being ordered around by an outlaw. He turned back around, about to point this out, but the room behind him was empty. The outlaw had disappeared.

* * *

By now the sun was almost directly overhead, the shadows becoming even more difficult to hide in. He kept his hood up, pulled low over his eyes as he glanced towards the castle once more. How much longer was he supposed to wait?

He and Robin had arrived in Nottingham shortly after sunup. The early grey of the morning allowed enough coverage to slip in unseen, and Will had provided the necessary distraction that allowed Robin to gain entrance into the castle. After losing the guards, he had doubled back, blended in with the others going about their day, and stationed himself to one end of the market. It was here Robin was supposed to meet him once he had finished with the sheriff.

Part of Will had wanted to follow, but Robin hadn't allowed it, had wanted him to stay out here should things not go well. Chaffee had been seen going in only moments before, and Robin was not sure how long things would take. He would not engage the sheriff until the man had left.

So Will waited, trying his best to remain inconspicuous as the morning wore away. When it had become apparent Robin was not returning anytime soon, he had busied himself combing the market, seeing what, if anything, was worth trading.

Already he had managed to get enough supplies to repair the camp where needed, but he couldn't help but see what else they may need. A casual sweep of the stalls showed nothing, and before long Will found himself pressed once again in the corner. And not a moment too soon.

Chaffee rode out, flanked by his guards, stopping for no one. Peasants and beggars alike dodged to one side, not daring to even utter a curse as the master-at-arms went on by. He found himself frowning at the treatment, but could not bring himself to blame them. No doubt that consequence for protesting would be the loss of a tongue.

The thought did not sit well with him, but the sight of the man did give him hope. Had Robin been caught, no doubt he, and all of Nottinghamshire would know by now. Instead the man had looked gruff, upset almost. No...Robin was fine. Had to be fine.

He turned his gaze back to the castle. Robin should not be much longer now. He was only to drop of the letter, check to see nothing had changed with the next shipment, and leave. Robin would meet him here, and then the pair of them would meet the others back at camp. They were not the only ones with an agenda...

Allan and John had gone to Locksley. They would deliver a similar letter, courtesy of Djaq, via an arrow through the manor window for Chaffee to discover upon his return. Meanwhile, Much and Djaq were storing the rest of the silver. What they would do upon returning to camp was anyone's guess.

Robin did not always tell them of all his plans, and truth be told Will figured the man came up with them at the last possible moment. But if there were no plans, Will had already made up his mind on doing some scouting.

Already their stores were getting full. Until now they had always had sufficient room to accumulate whatever was needed. But their provisions were normally given away shortly after acquiring them. Now, by keeping all of what they took, that room was quickly running out. The idea had come to him briefly, but he hadn't said anything to anyone. Not yet; he would first had to find a suitable location that was within fair distance to the camp. Once he had done that, he would run the idea by Robin, already knowing the man would approve.

Will reached up, pulling his hood down lower as he turned more into the shadows. He could see a man out of the corner of his eye. A rotund looking fellow, a bit bedraggled. A beggar, no doubt. Most likely hoping for a handout. Yet he did not like the way the man watched him, and he could not deny the fact the man had been following him, inching closer bit by bit as the time wore on.

For now it had stopped. The man had turned away, had even wandered off a bit, allowing Will to breathe. Normally that sort of thing did not bother him. But times were not what they used to be. There was nothing he had on him that could help the other. And worse, if he was to be discovered...

Again the man was coming close, Will watching with a hardened expression. It brought the man to a stop, and a moment later he was grinning.

"Whatch ya 'iden from?"

He was drunk by the sounds of it. His words slurred, and Will could almost swear that he could smell the ale rolling off his breath.

"I'm not hiding," Will answered, glancing back towards the castle. What was taking Robin so long?

"You look like ya 'iden," the man continued. Will did not meet his gaze again, watching instead from the corner of his eye. The silence stretched between them for a time, Will shifting uncomfortably under the man's gaze. Suddenly he was speaking again.

"You look fam'lar. Do I know ya?"

"No," Will answered quickly. Perhaps too quickly. He could see the man frown.

"We must 'ave meet. Drinks at the tavern?"

"I'm not from here," Will took another step back as the man came closer. He doubted the man meant him any harm, but he did not want to take any chances. He could leave, circle the market and return here when the man had moved on. But what if Robin came while he was gone? The man would be looking for him, and if Robin suspected he was caught, and went back into the castle...

"Where ya from?"

"Scarborough," there was no hesitation in his answer. "My father has business in the castle. I'm just waiting for him."

"Scarborough?" the other shook his head. "Never 'eard of it."

"It's up north."

"No," the man shook his head. Will frowned, thinking at first that the man was arguing the location of the town, but there was a grin on his face. "You're from 'ere."

"I already told you-"

He moved fast for a fat man. Will found himself pressed against the wall, hands wound in the folds of his shirt, an overwhelming stench of ale confirming his first thought. He grabbed the man by the arms, trying to dislodge himself, to pull free. All the while the man was yelling.

"Outlaw, I've got one of them outlaws!"

"Let go," Will hissed, still caught in his grasp. It was surprising how much strength the drunkard had. Somehow he managed to get one arm free, but no sooner than he had, he found himself in the grasp of another. A knife was at his throat even as he kicked out, the man falling to the ground. But the guard behind pressed the blade down, stilling his movements.

"I gots 'im," the man spat, crawling on his hands and knees. "It was me, the reward, it belongs to me."

Will scowled, all the while trying to banish the fear that was starting to creep up inside of him. It was not the first time villagers had turned against them; back when Robin had been blamed for the death of Joderic and other innocents, the villagers of Nettlestone had unleashed their fury on them. That was justifiable, Will able to understand their pain, and the fact they had been mislead. But this here...this was wholly different. The man had given him away solely for a few coins...

"You'll have to discuss that with Chaffee," the guard answered, his tone uneven and uncaring.

He could feel his heart sink, his breath catch in his chest. So he was to go back to Chaffee. The mere thought had been on the back of his mind, but to actually hear it frightened him. He did not want to face that man again.

Suddenly the sword was pulled from his throat, the guard behind him emitting a groan even as he stumbled. Will was quick in moving, kicking back and breaking free of the hold. He spun around, meeting Robin's gaze, the outlaw now in possession of the sword as he stood over the fallen guard.

"How about you discuss it with me first?" Robin held the blade so it hovered over the guard's throat. The man held his hands out, signaling his surrender.

"You couldn't have come sooner?" Will wondered, shaking his head.

"You couldn't have kept yourself out of trouble while I was gone?"

Suddenly there were shouts, the alarm being raised. Will turned, watching as the drunken man stumbled out into the fray, shouting his discovery. He winced, turning to Robin quickly.

"I guess not."

"Time to disappear," Robin nodded to him, taking the lead as they both turned down the nearest street.

It was easy to weave in and out amongst the people. Very few tried to stop them, most not even sure what was going on as the guards chased them down. Ahead of him Robin turned a corner suddenly, Will nearly stumbling as he followed. They were dodging between houses now, trying to lose their pursers.

They came around another corner, coming to a stop, pressing against the wall, listening. He could hear his own breaths, his heart hammering, the orders being called. So far they had not been discovered, but by now the whole of Nottingham's guards would be looking for them. Suddenly a whisper to his right caught his attention.

Across the street someone waved to them. Will nudged Robin, nodding once he had the man's attention. He could see Robin frown, but shortly after he nodded. Will took a breath, giving himself one last moment to compose himself, before darting across the street. He made it to the shadows, ducking under the frame of the door. A moment later, Robin was behind him.

"Quick, in the back!"

There was no need for encouragement. He led the way, already knowing where to go. Robin followed without question, slipping into the small space and drawing close the curtain. There was enough room for the both of them here, but it was tight.

There was nothing said, the pair simply listening. The faint sounds could be heard, the briefest of exchanges. Someone was in the house, close to where they were. He felt himself swallow, wondering if what they had just done was the wisest of ideas. If they were found...

"It's alright to come out now; I've sent them on their way."

Will let out a sigh, muttering a silent prayer before following Robin out. She had already risked herself once saving him, and now it seemed as though she had done so again. He doubted there was any way to thank her enough. Still, he couldn't help but smile, watching as she pulled Robin into an embrace.

"I was wondering when I'd see your face around here. Everyone else sees you, but you don't bother yourself seeing an old lady, do you?"

"I've been busy," Robin laughed, returning the embrace.

"Look at you," Matilda scoffed, running her hands over his shoulders and down his side. "All skin and bones; when are you going to put on some weight?"

"I'm fine," he scoffed, his voice turning serious just then. "It's everyone else I worry about."

"You can't worry about them until you've taken care of yourself," she scolded Robin briefly, before turning to look at Will.

"And you; well enough to be getting back into trouble, I see?"

He grimaced, shrugging his shoulders. "About last time-"

"You better have a good excuse," she pointed finger towards him. "We had a deal."

"I wasn't going to let you put yourself in danger."

"Rubbish. I don't like it when one of my patients wander off," Matilda shook her head, turning back to Robin. "Though I suppose he learned that from you. You never listened to the likes of me either."

Robin had raised an eyebrow, watching him quizzically. "Is there something I should know?"

"Matilda helped me," Will answered casually. "Back while you were gone. She helped to hide me when I managed to escape."

"And we were supposed to work together to free the rest of your lot," Matilda was all too eager to explain, a frown on her face as she watched him. "Instead I wake up, find he's up and disappeared. All without my approval. Though seeing that you're here now, I gather that stab wound no longer bothers you?"

"Stab wound?"

Will turned away from Robin's gaze, managing a little more than a shrug. He hadn't exactly made it that far in his story. In fact, he had held every intention to not tell the man. For a time nothing was said, and Will found himself looking up to gauge the man's reaction. It was difficult to read, but Robin finally shook his head.

"I figured something had happened."

"You don't get to say anything," Will defended himself. "You lied to us about what happened to you."

"That's different-"

"No, it's not," he clarified, about to protest when Matilda cleared her throat, interrupting them both.

"Now stop that. The pair of you fight worse than a married couple," she shook her head, rolling her eyes. "Men; they always have to argue about something. Why don't we have a nice meal, talk about something more civil, and enjoy ourselves?"

"We can't stay," Robin turned down the offer, his voice firm but gentle.

"Well, you can't be expecting to leave. The entire town's crawling with those parasites the sheriff has nerve to call guards. Best to wait, let it quiet down," she encouraged them. "Besides, I was being serious when I said you were skin and bones."

"My men will be expecting us-"

"And they can wait," she continued to argue. "Better to be late than to be caught and hanged, don't you agree? Now sit down, don't worry yourself about trying to help, I know my way around the kitchen."

"You're not going to win," Will whispered to him quietly.

She did have a point. Trying to get out of Nottingham would be difficult given the fact the alarm had been raised. Plus he could not deny the fact that a proper meal was a welcome thought. Robin gave him a slightly irritated glance, but slowly the man agreed. He knew that look well enough. They would be talking about this later, he knew. But at least for now, everything was okay.

**TBC**


End file.
